


Only You and What We Leave Behind

by runicmagitek



Category: The Others - Anne Bishop
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Etched in Bone Spoilers, Explicit Sexual Content, Extended Scene, F/F, Families of Choice, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 19:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: Tess never planned on calling anywhere her home, let alone the Lakeside Courtyard. What was meant to be a stepping stone in her journey turned into something else, especially when a certain vampire caught her eye.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaerstyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaerstyne/gifts).



The cold bit through Tess, sharper than any of Namid’s creations. The wind accelerated and snow blurred her surroundings. Numbness crawled past her fingertips, daring to claim her entire body. Perhaps if luck tipped in her favor, she would have swiped more than a windbreaker suited for autumn. Tess scoffed. No point in dwelling in the possibilities; none of the _terra indigene_ could rewind and shift the flow of time.

Thus she kept walking. Her destination was unknown, but so long as it was far away, nothing else mattered.

Tess paused and squinted through the heavy snowfall. Were those lit buildings in the distance? Either that or her mind relinquished whatever semblance of sanity remained. She licked her cracked lips, the moisture freezing a second later, and shuffled closer.

There were, in fact, small settlements sprinkled about the land. One question remained: who inhabited this area? If humans dared to approach her, Tess longed to eviscerate every last one’s soul. A brief smirk humored her lips. Maybe it would be better that way. Annihilate a sleepy community and hole up in a house until she regained both her strength and a better plan. No one would miss them, anyways.

But if _terra indigene_ approached her? Well... Tess hadn’t thought that far ahead.

She traversed the snow, ignored the entrance sign—also covered in snow—and attempted to stay warm. A gale nearly knocked her over. Snow soaked through her worn boots and nibbled at her toes. Her steps slowed, despite her efforts.

A door opened in the distance. Light poured out, framing the silhouette of a humanoid figure. Her hair shifted around her face, coiling into tighter curls. No doubt threads of black saturated most of her hair, if not every strand. She focused on her breaths and whatever wits remained.

Whispers trickled into her thoughts. Tess stilled herself, eyes widening. How long had it been since she experienced those voices? She almost forgot how to communicate in such a manner. Doubt twisted her stomach and she forced herself to swallow down the acrid sensation.

<Help>, Tess called out, her plea more aligned with a feeble murmur than a powerful cry. <Please... help.>

She dropped to her knees and covered her face. Each deep breath rattled her body. _Calm down,_ she repeated to herself like a mantra. _Just... calm down. Please, calm down. Calm_ _—_

Crows cawed above. More doors swung open. A single howl echoed in the distance, joined by others. Her nails dug into her scalp as she lowered her face. _It_ _’s going to be okay. Don’t let them see you, though—the_ true _you._

The wind died. Rushed feet approached her. With one last inhale, Tess dared to peek past her fingers. Sparse snowflakes danced in the sky. Did Elementals reside in this nook of the world? More questions popped to mind as earth natives crowded Tess. None of them dropped and begged for mercy; perhaps she hid enough of her true form to keep their minds from turning to soup.

Though past the group, a thick fog cloud lingered in the back. The storm lifted, yet slivers of it persisted. Except it moved on its own accord, weaving in and out of the crowd, as if to gain a better vantage point of the commotion.

Before two men flanked Tess and helped her up, she held her breath. That wasn’t fog; it was smoke.

 

* * *

 

“What brings you here from the other night?”

Tess glared at the bodywalker. “Why do _you_ need to know?”

A growl filled the room. “Answer the question.”

She sighed. Wolfgard never changed, no matter where they lived. The one acting as their leader—Simon, she believed was his name—had yet to stray five feet away from her since she arrived. _Guess that means no resident Harvesters,_ Tess mused. _He would know better if there were. Everyone would._

“I have my reasons,” Tess offered.

Simon snarled, but at least the bodywalker didn’t flinch. “Were you planning on visiting the Lakeside Courtyard?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

“It means,” Tess said, turning to face him, “that I was looking for anywhere to hole up in, so long as I was safe.”

“If _you_ bring any trouble here—”

Tess coughed up a dry chuckle. “If anyone was dumb enough to follow me, I’ll make sure they don’t leave alive. Trust me.”

Simon’s growl vanished, but nothing softened his features. “What are you?” When Tess didn’t answer, Simon stepped closer. “You don’t smell human, but I don’t _know_ this scent.”

_You_ _’re probably better off that way,_ she wanted to say. If she wanted a sliver of a chance to stay under the radar, however, this was the place to do it. That meant appealing to a Wolfgard. Not exactly high on her priority list, but neither was wandering through a blizzard. All she needed was to keep a low profile long enough before venturing elsewhere. Life was better that way—for a Harvester, anyways. None of them lasted long in one place for a reason.

Tess knew that now, anyways.

“Me?” Tess raised an eyebrow. “I’m the kind of nightmare humans wish only existed in books and underneath beds.”

Releasing a breath, she turned back to center. Hopefully the silence was a good notion. The bodywalker brought her attention to Simon, no doubt exchanging a private conversation not meant for her mind. As Tess waited, she brought her eyes to the nearby window. Translucent curtains draped over the glass, though Tess swore a billow of smoke rolled by.

 

* * *

 

Hot water rushed over Tess’ form. Droplets trickled from the curly tips of her hair. All the while, she closed her eyes and recalled what Simon told her—or more accurately, demanded of her.

“ _If you stay here,_ ” he had said, hardly restraining himself to not lace a growl in his words, “ _you work._ ”

“ _And if I don_ _’t wish to work?_ ”

“ _Then_ leave.”

Tess scoffed and shook her head. While not an ideal plan, it was more than what she had several days ago. If work was what the Wolfgard instructed her to do, then work was what he’d get. _Keep my head down, save up whatever I can, and go from there. Until then?_ A chill managed to race up her spine in spite of the sweltering heat. _Guess I_ _’ll try to play along._

The shower turned off with a squeak. Sweeping drenched locks out of her face, Tess stepped out and dried off. The bathroom was big enough for one person and nothing more, unless she wished to be up close and personal with whoever shared the space with her. Tess gagged at the thought. Human or _terra indigene_ , they were all better kept beyond an arm’s reach—for their sake _and_ her own.

She wiped down the foggy mirror and frowned. No amount of steam could block out the sight of brilliant crimson hair. Every strand coiled tight to her scalp, as if out of fear. Even when her heart beats and breaths returned to normal, it didn’t erase what sat deep in her core. She wasn’t human, but she was a stranger to the Lakeside Courtyard and thus tolerated. Not exactly an upgrade, though at least she wasn’t prey.

And at least those inhabiting the Courtyard weren’t aware that _they_ were to a Harvester. Not yet, anyways.

Tess emerged from the bathroom donning over-sized pajamas—a gift from the bodywalker before she departed. Crossing her arms with a sigh, she wrinkled her nose at the meager, outdated furnishings in the open space posing as her shelter. No additional walls to block off individual rooms, but plenty of windows overlooking the center of the Courtyard and providing a grand view into her apartment. _Not sure how to feel about that,_ Tess thought. The location, however, was a plus; her commute to her “job” come morning consisted of a walk down the stairs and nothing more.

Her eyes flicked to one final nook and she smiled, albeit small. The kitchenette offered minimal counter space. Perhaps if necessary, she could shove the table she’d never use close by for a makeshift counter. _What else am I going to do with a table that size and four chairs?_ Tess approached the gas stove and cracked the oven open. Nothing fancy, but it was big enough, thus it would do. Her curiosity brought her to the cupboards, where she grimaced. Only cobwebs and dust bunnies greeted her there. Even the fridge offered empty shelves in need of cleaning.

“We’ll have to fix that,” Tess murmured.

A delicate, yet staccato noise tapped at a window. Several strands of hair shifted to black. Flicking her sights to the windows, she found a single crow perched on the window sill outside while cocking their head about.

<What do you want, Crowgard?> Tess snapped.

The Crowgard paused. <Hello! You’re no longer with the bodywalker. Are you better?>

Tess rolled her eyes. <I don’t have time with this.>

<Who are you?>

<Why do you need to know?>

The Crowgard blinked and tapped the glass again.

“Oh, for the love of—” <Tess.> She marched to the window and glared above the Crowgard. <There. Happy?>

Those black wings opened. <I’m Jenni!>

<I don’t care. I didn’t ask.>

Jenni tilted her head. <You hair is moving.>

<Because you’re pissing me off, so leave me alone unless you—>

<Ooo, it’s turning black! I like black.>

Cursing beneath her breath, Tess whipped around and buried her face in her palms. Now wasn’t the time to be dropping her mask and claiming one of the earth natives in the Courtyard. She couldn’t run away again, not so soon.

She drew in trembling breaths and closed her eyes. <Please leave.>

No more taps along the window. After a moment, Tess inspected the window sill. Jenni was gone.

_I guess my first investment,_ Tess thought while leaning against the window, _will be a proper pair of damn curtains and shades._


	2. Chapter 2

“Don’t you have anything else I can do?”

Simon never looked up from his bookkeeping. “I gave you tasks.”

Tess rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and I finished all of them.”

That much pried his amber gaze away. Simon eyed the single clock on the wall in Howling Good Reads.

“It hasn’t even been two hours,” he snarled.

“So,” Tess continued, “do you have anything else for me to do around here aside from cleaning?” His quiet examination of the interior plucked her nerves. “I can do more than just clean, you know.”

“Like _what_?”

“Inventory, for one.” She jerked her chin in the direction of the massive notebook he kept. “I can help convert that to a computer if you have—”

“ _You_ ,” Simon snapped, his tongue as swift as his hand slamming the notebook closed, “can stick to cleaning.” He turned to face Tess, inches away from her. “That’s an order.”

She scoffed. “I’m your employee, not a part of your pack. You don’t scare me, _Wolf_.”

“Neither do _you_ … you….” His hesitation with grasping a proper insult that aligned with her true nature left Tess smirking. Simon shook his head and glared. “Get back to work.”

If cleaning was what Simon wanted, then Tess planned to abolish every speck of dust from floor to ceiling. Even humans would eat off of the floors when she was done. The very reminder left her shuddering—why were humans here, of all places? At least the _terra indigene_ held complete rule in the Courtyard and thus no human laws protected the monkeys. Nor did human laws attempt to strip away Tess’ life.

She cleared books from an entire shelf for thorough cleaning, eyes wandering to double her check her surroundings every other second. Each foreign sound gutted her like an endless barrage of knives: the bell by the door, the creak in the floor panels, the flip of pages, the chime of the cash register. By the time she finished her fourth shelf, the whispers crept closer.

A group of men— _more like grade school boys,_ Tess kept to herself—spoke in hushed tones while perusing the section meant for vampire romances. Tess caught them averting their eyes whenever she peeked past her shoulder. The crimson curls framing her face tightened.

The bell rang through the bookstore—another customer. Simon actually greeted, for once, whoever entered. Tess paused to peer around the corner. A new man approached Simon like an old friend. Or a business partner from Simon’s approval of the man flipping through his notebook. Not a Wolfgard, but something else, if her nose served her right; she might not have been a shifter, but Namid’s gifts made her senses superior to humans nonetheless.

None of that mattered when _she_ appeared from behind him.

A tall woman wandered the premise, her movements fluid, almost as if she floated. Black hair flowed like silk past her shoulders to match her grim attire. More like a costume from an old horror movie than anything relevant to modern fashion, though far from cheap. She folded her arms loosely against her statuesque form, boredom coloring her eyes. No doubt there were plenty of men who wished to shatter the ice she wore like armor out of sick amusement. As for Tess? She was content with staring from afar. Sometimes the most beautiful of Namid’s creations were better observed from a distance.

“Tess.”

If there was ever a way to shift her hair from red to black, _that_ was it. Tess drew in a breath and hoped it was enough to don her mask a little longer. Upon whipping around, she found Simon behind her with the man who entered from earlier. Simon narrowed his eyes, as if perplexed by her reaction, while the other man smirked.

“Why are you being so jumpy?” Simon demanded.

“Probably the same reason _you_ ,” she retaliated, “decided to sneak up on me.”

“I’m _not_ sneaking.”

“If you say so, _Wolf_.”

Simon squinted further while the man beside him snickered.

“This is the new hire you mentioned about last night?” the man asked Simon.

“About to be newly fired at this rate,” Simon grumbled.

Tess matched his glare. “I’m _not_ deaf.”

“And _not_ afraid of a Wolfgard.” The man smirked. “I like you already.”

_Oh trust me, the feeling_ _’s not mutual._ “And you are…?”

He extended a hand. “Vladimir Sanguinati, but please, call me Vlad. Simon and I run this shop together.”

Tess eyed the open palm, raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms. “Name’s Tess.”

“Not one for pleasantries?” Vlad asked with a smile, though not wide enough to expose his fangs.

She mimicked his smile, albeit wryly. “I’m not one for being a meal.” Or better yet, she didn’t wish for a Sanguinati, of all _terra indigene_ , to sample her blood.

Flecks of red appeared in Simon’s eyes, but before he opened his mouth to bark at her, Vlad laughed.

“Good.” He retracted his hand. “You’re sharp.” He looked to Simon. “She already beats the last five employees we had to let go here.”

“She’s just a temp,” he muttered back.

Tess pursed her lips. A comeback stewed in her brain, though it all vanished as familiar whispers trickled into earshot. She turned around and glared. Those same idiots loitering the shop inched closer to the tall lady in black, stalking her no different than a predator did with its prey.

Her heart skipped a beat. She blinked and relived countless memories: different streets, different men, but always the same intent. Someone as pretty as her walking alone at night was a moving target for anyone thinking with the wrong head. That’s what made it so much _fun_ —they never questioned Tess luring them into her own trap. There were occasional women in those moments; Tess counted on one hand the times she _didn_ _’t_ need to intervene for them.

This wasn’t a dark alley; it was a bookstore in broad daylight. And the surreal beauty paying no attention to them wasn’t a Harvester.

After whispering with his buddies, one of the men crept up to the woman and dared to reach for her hair. He never touched her; not when Tess bolted across the room and slammed him into a bookshelf.

Countless perfect bound books crashed to the floor. The man latched onto Tess’ wrist, struggling to breathe as she squeezed his throat with a single hand. Inches away, Tess inhaled and stared directly into his eyes. Only when he ceased to flail and his features widened in fear did she know her mask cracked.

“Whatever you think is a good idea in your pathetic excuse for a brain,” Tess hissed, “is better forgotten.” She tightened her hand until he choked. “Now leave and never come back.”

Tess released him. The man stumbled away. He vomited after ten shaky steps. His group flung cruel, yet hushed commentary in her direction before helping their buddy out. All the while, she licked her lips and exhaled, the sound similar to a moan—a worthy snack, by her standards.

But the books spilled by her feet and the panicked whispers returned Tess to the present moment. Muscles tightened as she looked around. Simon, Vlad, and most of the customers focused on nothing but her.

_Fuck._

With her eyes to the ground and arms over her head, she recalled the path to the employee bathroom in the back. Her shoulder collided with shelves and walls alike, but it didn’t stop her from retreating to the only safe place for herself _and_ everyone else. The door locked behind her and Tess curled up on the floor.

No footsteps neared the bathroom, let alone a knock against the door. In the silence and darkness, she filtered trembling breaths through her lungs. _Calm down,_ she told herself, despite her curls twisting tighter than her hand on that filthy human.

But she recalled the glimpse of Simon’s face before fleeing; the Wolfgard was no different from a lost bunny stumbling into a monster beyond its comprehension.

 

* * *

 

A familiar sound clinked against the window. Tess lied in bed, eyes glued to the ceiling. Again the tapping returned. She furrowed her brow.

<What do you want, Jenni?>

<I’m not Jenni!>

Tess flicked her eyes to the window. A Crow stared back at her. <You all look the same.>

The bird puffed out her chest. <I’m Crystal!>

<Fine. Whatever. Why are you here?>

<To make sure the Tess okay.>

<Why do you care?>

<Jake saw what happened at Howling Good Reads—>

<And then told the other Crowgards and probably the entire Courtyard for all I know.>

<Well… not the _entire_ Courtyard—>

<It would be best if you left me alone and not worry about my well-being.>

< _I_ _’m_ not worried.>

Tess shot up in bed. “Then _why_ are you here?!”

Starr tilted her head. <I was asked to make sure the Tess was okay.>

“By _who_? Is Simon making the Crowgard babysit me?”

<No. Simon never gives us shinies….>

Tess facepalmed. “And who _is_?”

Crystal looked around before replying. <The Tess’ hair is pretty when it’s black.>

“If you want to keep all of your feathers, I’d nix the flirting.”

<I’m just the messenger.>

_Oh, for the love of_ _—_

Before Tess could sputter out a response, Crystal unfurled her wings and took off. Tess attempted to reach her mentally, but found silence. Curses slipped past her tongue as she buried her face into a pillow to groan. The blasted Crowgard were going to be the death of her.


	3. Chapter 3

The bell sounded from the front door. Tess rolled her eyes, ceased her sweeping, and rested the broom against the wall. Whoever deemed it _necessary_ to visit any retail establishment ten minutes before closing deserved to be thrown into the wilds for the _terra indigene_ there to handle them. But Simon was in the back, Vlad was elsewhere picking up a last minute shipment, and Tess was left in charge. Maybe not explicitly stated, but Simon’s insistence on being undisturbed the last hour of the night meant the responsibility of keeping the store from _not_ crumbling was on Tess’ shoulders. No doubt those Wolf ears heard the bell, along with Tess’ colorful muttering.

And the small gasp when Tess found a tall, dark woman standing in Howling Good Reads.

Before Tess formed threads of coherent thought, the woman’s sharp gaze fell upon her. “Ah.” And she smiled, almost like a cat who found a mouse to play with. “There you are.”

Tess blinked. “Can I help you?”

“Please, drop the customer service voice.” She waved a hand while approaching Tess. “I’m not in need of reading suggestions.”

As the woman closed the space between them, Tess scanned her lean form. Black velvet enveloped every inch of skin, save for her face. Meticulous black lace and beadwork adorned the hem and sleeves of the anachronistic gown. Simple, black jewels dangled from her ears. Not a trace of make-up touched her face, nor did she require it. She was a living shadow from her silhouette to the way she floated across the room.

“I was hoping you’d still be around,” she continued, “and that Simon wasn’t stupid enough to fire you.”

Tess hesitated; remaining in the Courtyard wasn’t high on her priority list, but neither was traversing the snowy countryside. “Yeah. Still here for now.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

A rich chuckle rolled out of her. “You know for what. Or did you forget about those monkeys from last week?”

Had it been that long already? Both a million years and mere seconds passed since that moment.

“Normally,” the woman explained, “I’d be against anyone wishing to stand up for me. I’m perfectly capable of standing up for myself... but _you_ are new here and were compelled to step in.”

“I don’t appreciate _boys_ acting like they own the world.”

That smile widened enough to reveal a hint of fangs. “ _Boys_ are funny like that, aren’t they?”

“Depends on what your definition of funny is.”

“The kind where a little bit of blood and tears never hurts.”

Now Tess cracked a smile. “I can get behind that.”

Though when the woman laughed, Tess wrinkled her brow, unable to discern what produced that twisted enjoyment.

“And here I thought,” she said through breathless snickering, “that I would always be alone.”

“What do you mean?” Tess asked, more cautious than she anticipated.

“I can’t recall the last time I found another woman who I could see eye-to-eye with.”

Tess’ heart skipped a beat. _I don_ _’t think I’ve ever met someone like you, never mind like myself._

“And where are my manners?” She shook her head. “I came all this way to introduce myself. I would have done so after you put those idiots in their place, but—”

“I was a little out of it that day,” Tess blurted out. Regret twinged her stomach the second that white lie left her. So long as it diverted attention from her time locked up in the bathroom, it didn’t matter.

Another eyebrow quirked up. That lovely smile faltered for a blink of an eye. “Well, I was hoping your reaction to those monkeys was a normal occurrence.”

_Shit, why did I bother saying anything?_ “I meant... after that.”

“Right.” She leaned forward. “Hopefully not out of it enough to indulge me on a request, my dearest... um....”

“Tess.” She stood up straighter and smoothed hands over her arms. “The name’s Tess.”

“ _Just_ Tess?”

“Yeah.”

Amusement colored her lips again. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you, Tess?”

“You’re not the first to say that.”

“Then would you humor me with an idea, Tess?”

Holding her breath, Tess nodded.

“Women like us,” she said, “shouldn’t be strangers to one another.”

“Even if I’m not a Sanguinati?”

“ _Especially_ if you’re not.”

“And what did you have in mind?”

“Find some more _boys_ to play with, of course.”

The proposition chilled Tess. When had anyone invited her to anything? Those who extended a seemingly warm offer throughout her life did so with ulterior motives, none of which Tess ever reciprocated. Then again, neither did the idiots she harvested life from, but thus was the natural order of the world. She was to be nothing more than a distant whisper from those lucky enough to be called acquaintances.

But this? What _was_ this? Earth natives didn’t have a word for it. The humans had plenty, but they also had an uncanny ability for obsessively reading between the lines. Something like a date, a stretch of time where they familiarized with one another. Most shifters approached courtship—if one even wished to call it that—in a manner that broke a human’s understanding of it. But neither she nor the Sanguinati were shifters. That alone both excited and panicked Tess.

_Why should I bother to get to know you,_ she mused, _when I don_ _’t plan on sticking around long enough to let_ anyone _get to know me?_

And yet the truth within the offer resonated through Tess—women like the two of them shouldn’t stay as strangers, not when they were a rarity.

“I might be interested,” Tess said.

“And I might know a place for this little _play_ of ours.”

The two snickered together.

“Whenever your next day off from the store is,” she said, “let me know. I’ll show you around. Beyond the Courtyard, that is.”

“I think I’d like that,” Tess uttered instead of confining to her thoughts.

“Excellent. Until then.”

The woman glided away and Tess hitched her breath.

“Wait.” Those dark eyes returned to her. Tess struggled to grip her train of thought. “I didn’t catch your name.”

After a moment, her smirking lips moved. “Nyx Sanguinati.”

The bell chimed. The door closed. Tess stared out the window as Nyx floated elsewhere until she blended with the night.

“That’s unusual.”

Tess hissed in air and whipped around. Simon visibly lost an inch when their sights locked.

“I thought you had paperwork to do,” Tess tried not to snap.

“And I thought you were sweeping the floors.”

She sighed. “Can’t ignore patrons, can I?”

“Didn’t sound like a—”

“Really? This is what we’re doing?” Tess rolled her eyes. “I’m not eavesdropping into _your_ talks, Wolf, so why don’t you—”

“I _wasn_ _’t_ eavesdropping,” Simon snarled. “Not my fault I can hear a damn pin drop from the other side of the store.”

“Then why provide your commentary to me?”

The wrinkles in his tense face softened. “Nyx isn’t one for small talk, let alone talking _at all_ to newcomers. Or others, in general.”

“Thank goodness for _that_.”

“Which means,” he raised his voice, “she must think highly of you.”

Tess bit back the need to smirk and puff up her chest. “At least someone does. And here I was worried that _you_ assigned her with the task of keeping tabs on me.”

Now Simon rolled his eyes. “The Wolfgard doesn’t _need_ the Sanguinati for that.”

“No, that’s what the Crowgard are for, right?” His Wolf growl did little to make her flinch. “Look, I get it. I’m a stranger. No different from an invader, if I had to take a guess. You don’t want me causing trouble. I can’t make any promises, especially when idiot monkeys feel the need to piss on everything, but _you_ giving me the silent treatment for this past week—”

“That’s not it.”

Her muscles tensed. Her hair brushed her cheeks and wound up tighter.

“You….” Simon averted his gaze. “What you did… any of us would have done the same.”

Tess clenched her jaw and held her breath. “And?”

“The Crowgard kept tabs on the monkeys after they left. The one you touched went to a human bodywalker.” The shake of his head was subtle. “He died.”

Goosebumps teased the back of her neck. She prayed to whatever still existed and listened that not a thread of black lined her hair.

“I don’t know what you did. None of us do.” Simon dared to hold eye contact. “Quite frankly, I don’t think I _want_ to know, but… as the Courtyard’s—”

“All you and the others need to know,” Tess spoke calmly, yet sternly, “is that I’m dangerous.”

“Is that why you fled wherever you came from?”

“Watch it, _Wolf_.”

Did Simon… did he _whimper_?

“If you wish to stay here—”

“I’ll behave,” Tess sighed out, “if you and everyone else does, too. I don’t react well to being pried open, but I can imagine the feeling is mutual.” She shrugged. “Before you know it, I won’t be around to ruffle your fur.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Read a damn book. Namid knows you’re surrounded by them.”

Tess walked past him with the intention to briskly resume her sweeping and call it a night. If Simon wasn’t keen on paying overtime, then Tess wasn’t exerting more effort than necessary.

“Just….”

She slowed her steps and waited for Simon to spit out whatever last words he needed to squeeze in. “ _What_?”

“Does your hair always do that?”

Tess held her tongue.

“It was… I swear it was almost green when I came out to check on you.”

“Does a Wolfgard always need howl to let the whole damn world know what’s going on in the middle of the night?”

He didn’t answer. And neither did she. It was better left that way.


	4. Chapter 4

The curtains could wait; Tess had other plans for her first paycheck. After two weeks worth of earnings, Tess returned to her apartment balancing two, stuffed paper bags in each arm. She released a breath upon settling them on the table and smiled. Plucking out the contents within, a plethora of ingredients and baking contraptions crowded the surface. Multiple ideas fired off in Tess’ head; her biggest predicament was picking a single recipe for that night alone.

The antiquated, cramped kitchen at her disposal wasn’t ideal, but that didn’t stop Tess from creating something scrumptious. She started with the apples: peel, core, and dice. She owned a spiralizer once, peeling whatever she desired in seconds. Same with a stand mixer and dutch oven, but none of those crossed her mind when she fled—only what was necessary and easily carried. A part of her longed for her collection of kitchenware. If only she could have it back without any of the bitter memories surrounding them. The rest of her, however, refused to wallow; she savored the simplicity of completing her tasks with a mere paring knife. She gained dexterity with each apple until it melded into a dance.

Apple chunks combined with black currants, butter, brown sugar, and spices in a saucepan. Tess grated what spices she could—she never realized how much of a luxury pre-ground spices were until she lived on a budget—and bundled the rest in cloth to soak in the compote. Cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and allspice permeated the apartment while she mixed the foundation for her pie crust—a cheap fork replaced her usual, metal whisk. With the table cleared, she sprinkled ample flour on the surface to fold the dough. Butter and shortening squeeze past her fingers as Tess lost herself in a meditative trance.

She set the marbled dough ball in the freezer to chill and wiped her brow with her floured forearm. No matter the time of year, baking proved to be strenuous. Tess cracked several windows to welcome the fresh, cold air; she needed it at the rate she worked.

After cleaning up her mess and stashing away the rest of her purchased good, Tess retrieved her chilled dough to roll out. Massive rims of glasses cut through the dough instead of cookie cutters. Dozens of uniform circles sat ready in a line. Tess meticulously spooned her apple mixture into each dough circle, covered them with more dough, smothered them in egg wash and sugar, and popped the first batch into the oven.

Her eyes gazed over the kitchen until she laughed. When was the last time she immersed herself in her passion? People feared her or even wished death upon Tess, but all of that faded when she baked and cooked. A Harvester who enjoyed creation… now _that_ was something to laugh about.

For dinner, Tess slapped together cheap deli meats and cheese on packaged, sliced bread. It almost pained her to eat it. _Next time I_ _’ll need to make my own bread,_ Tess thought, wrinkling her nose after the first bite. No room for condiments, let alone a quality crusty loaf, when she splurged her first check on baking essentials.

A clatter by the window caught Tess’ attention. She chewed slowly, unable to perceive what watched her in the darkness… until a Crowgard head poked inside.

<Just because the window’s opened,> Tess said with narrow eyes, <doesn’t mean I’m welcoming the whole Courtyard.>

The Crow cocked its head. <Smells good in here.>

That almost made her smile. <Does it?>

<Never smelled something like this before.>

<I’m baking hand pies.> She paused. <You can’t have any.>

The Crow let out a soft, almost sad _caw_. <No hand pies?>

<Nope.>

<But… you have so many.>

<Always bake in large quantities.>

<Why?>

Tess shrugged. <Better to have too many than too few.>

The Crow contemplated her words. <So… what if _maybe_ hand pies?>

<What’s a hand pie, Jake?

Another Crow—Jenni, if her memory served her well—joined the window sill and poked her head in.

<I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.>

<Is the Tess making them?>

<Who the hell else do you think would be in here?> Tess droned out.

<You make hand pies?> Jenni asked.

<I make lots of baked goods—>

<Oooo, can we try?>

<Do Crows even _like_ pies?>

Both Jenni and Jake looked at one another. <Not sure. Only one way to find out.>

Tess shoved the rest of her sandwich into her mouth and sighed. <Fine. _One_ hand pie. For both of you to share.> She swore both of them inhaled in her mind, prepared to rattle off their glee. <But _only_ if you both keep quiet while I finish.>

Again they eyed one another. Jenni—or maybe it was Jake—cawed and ruffled her feathers before getting comfy on the window sill. The other followed suit. Tess smirked and returned to the kitchen.

The first batch baked to golden perfection. Tess inhaled with a slight moan as she set the hand pies to cool on a rack. Three more trays to bake off and she could call it a night. There was enough for one per meal for five days and then some. _Hate to have the rest go to waste,_ she thought. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to share, after all.

Once cooled, Tess grabbed two hand pies and brought them over to Jenni and Jake. “Here.”

They both eyed the flaky, buttery crust oozing with apples. <Thought you said only one?>

“I changed my mind.”

Jake tilted his head while Jenni snatched her own pie and flew off.

Tess huffed. <You’re _welcome_.>

<Oh, thank you!> Jenni shot back, her distracted words no doubt thanks to her giddy over her new treat.

Jake claimed his serving, thanked Tess with a sharp _caw_ , and joined his kin elsewhere.

“Damn Crowgard,” she muttered before returning to the kitchen.

After savoring a hand pie for herself—just the right balance of flaky crust and gooey filling—another rustle of feathers sounded from the window.

<You can’t have seconds, Jenni,> Tess grumbled.

<I’m not Jenni?>

She blinked. <Is this a game?>

<I… don’t think so? Jenni _did_ tell me about pies, though. I like pies… I think.>

<Me, too!>

Another Crow joined the window sill. And another. Once five crowded around for the opportunity for elusive pie, Tess couldn’t help but smirk. And when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window while delivering more pies, her hair loosened to green waves.


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you doing alright?”

Tess tilted her head back and sputtered out a laugh. That was one way to put it. With ample, fresh life essence imbued in her veins, she was set for several weeks. Tess was beyond alright. The pathetic excuse for a man, though? Not so much. Nor was Tess alright with the grueling pace it took to don her humanoid mask again. At least Nyx kept her distance while Tess curled up under a metal, fire route escape ladder in a back alley.

Cars drove by on the main streets, none of them slowing down to notice the prior commotion of three human men catcalling the two, aloof ladies. They disappeared out of view and the men followed. Muffled screams paled before the distant horns blaring and tires screeching throughout the urban sprawl. All cities were the same like that and Lakeside was no exception. Same, stupid monkeys everywhere. No one would miss them. No one would care. And thus no one would hunt her down with a death wish.

She echoed that sentiment until it burned into her thoughts and yet her hair continued to curl and twist.

“Tess?”

Cold air dragged through her raw throat. “Yeah,” she said, unable to suppress the moan that came with a hunt’s afterglow. “I’m good.”

Nyx tilted her head and leaned into the brick building. “I was worried you weren’t strong enough to hold both of them down while I pinned my meal to the ground.”

“I like it when they run.”

Dark laughter rang through each building’s foundations. “Can’t blame you. Makes the blood more delicious when it’s pumping hot like that.”

_For you, maybe,_ Tess kept to herself. The pure adrenaline coursing through each victim from sheer panic was like a slab of butter on bread straight out of the oven. And while Nyx drained her share of blood, Tess toyed with not one, but _two_ lives. They lied limp several feet from her, dread still tainting their wide eyes. Authorities would find them in several days, perhaps when someone issued an odor complaint down the street, but the rats and flies would have their share by then. Not enough to render those faces unrecognizable, but enough to spread the fear.

Maybe it was too much. Maybe she overdid it, just like last time. Maybe someone _did_ notice and already called the police. Or maybe they didn’t and preferred to follow her home. Maybe they’d bring friends. Maybe—

“Tess, you’re shaking.”

She held her breath, drew her knees into her chest, and buried her face. _Need more time. Not yet_ _… the veil is still lifted. Please… I don’t want to hurt you… not you. Anyone but you._

“It’s been a while,” Tess managed to say.

She never noticed Nyx looming closer, always the silent predator. “Don’t hunt often?”

“I try not to.”

“No? That’s a shame. Why get by on the bare necessities when you can have some _fun_ every once and a while?”

Tess chuckled. “Never hunted with someone else, either.”

“Well then. I’m honored.”

“It’s… easier when I’m alone.”

“It is, though?”

“Maybe.” She sighed. “Or I’ve convinced myself to think as much.”

“The humans always say something about practice making perfect. There must be some logic in that, though I don’t consider _these_ practice.”

A body thumped against the ground. Tess lifted her heat enough to peer at a third human added to the pile, drained of all color his blood once provided, save for the two trickles staining his neck.

“ _You_ ,” Nyx said, “are well-seasoned to put most Sanguinati to shame. In my eyes, you’ve had your practice and more, thus it makes me curious.” She turned her head to eye Tess, who ducked her head back down. “What’s troubling that pretty head of yours?”

Her face flushed. Nothing was pretty about her when she stood next to the statuesque beauty that was Nyx. Tess tossed together an ensemble of a long-sleeved shirt, hoodie, jeans, boots, scarf, and gloves before following Nyx into the city. Her counterpart wore an impractical gown which melded with her smoke form when in pursuit. Not a hair out of place and the blood staining her lips mimicked crimson lipstick. Tess wanted to spend all night watching her lick those plump lips clean.

“It’s… a lot to take in,” Tess murmured. Nyx remained silent and thus she continued. “Cities are ideal places for us non-shifters to hunt, right? Plenty of people to pick from and blend with, but it’s also a tremendous amount waiting to corner you if you’re not careful.”

“Better to strike them in their place.” Nyx clicked her tongue. “They should know better.”

“Yeah.” Tess closed her eyes and blocked out the memories of hateful screams, fire, and gunshots. “They should.”

“Some may call it home, but I prefer to view it as… what are those things small humans play games on?” She snapped her manicured fingers. “Playgrounds. I like that word. It’s how I view cities like Lakeside. Not a home, but a place to have fun before heading home.”

“Or a grocery store.”

Nyx cackled. “I’d prefer a farm.”

Tess smirked. Her hair loosened around her face.

“The point is,” Nyx said, her words laced with contagious giggles, “that you don’t sleep in your kitchen. Better to make your bed where you’re comfortable. For me? That’s the Lakeside Courtyard. A quiet corner of Thaisia where no one can disturb me.”

“I guess I can get behind that….”

“But?”

Tess held her tongue. _But it gets lonely being a feared predator. When your supposed kin refuse to come in a ten-mile radius from you, even the silence in the middle of the wilds gnaws at your soul. And maybe it_ _’s better that way. Not just for me, but everyone alive. Still, I can’t help but wonder…._

“What kind of life is it to lead,” Tess murmured, “when you distance yourself from all other life?”

A gentle hand smoothed over her taut shoulders. Tess melted in that cool touch until she dared to lift her head and meet Nyx’s smiling visage.

“Better to keep those below you in their proper place,” she purred. “Afraid and at arm’s length.”

“And those who _aren_ _’t_ afraid? If there even _are_ any?”

Nyx grinned, her bloodied fangs glinting in the distant, sparse street light. “As I said, hunting is always more enjoyable when done in pairs.”


	6. Chapter 6

“You know, I’m not sure how to feel about you and Nyx spending as much time as you are together.”

Tess paused amidst stocking new novels. Her brows knitted together and her hair bounced from tousled waves to chaotic curls. _What the hell is that supposed to mean?_ Glancing back to Vlad, she breathed easier with that amused smile gracing his face.

“Part of me is thrilled to know she’s making a connection with _anybody_ ,” Vlad said, “but I’m also terrified at the prospect of her teaming up with someone as equally as ferocious as herself.”

Her hair relaxed, though not enough to resume its former shape. “Good. Someone has to keep everyone on their toes.”

Vlad released a nervous laugh. “Doesn’t help you’re not one of us, but—”

Nope. It was going to be a curly afternoon for Tess. “You need to work on your subtlety _and_ your habitual prying.”

“Well... I wouldn’t call it _habitual_ —”

“I’m not here so you and Simon and who knows who else can place bets to figured out _what_ I am.” Tess shoved the remaining books onto the shelf, brushed her hands clean, and stood to perch tight fists on her hips. “At least that wasn’t in the fine print when I agreed to work here.”

Vlad visibly swallowed. “It isn’t in any of our interests to upset you, Tess.”

“You sure about that? I’ve been here for what? A month and a half? Give or take? I can’t help but feel like I’m treated no different than the monkeys.”

“Please trust me when I say it isn’t our intention to make you feel uneasy. We’re merely....” He nodded his head about while searching for the proper word. “Cautious.”

Tess rubbed her temples. “Yeah. Sure. Okay. I get it. I’m just a temp worker trying to get her shit together so I can move along. Sorry I don’t have a better ETA than ‘eventually.’”

“We’re not trying to rush you out, Tess. If you were to ask me, I’d prefer if you stayed.”

Tess’ laughter shot through Howling Good Reads. Maybe the buildings a block down noticed the vibrations in their walls from her amusement, too.

“You should add lying to your needs improvement list while you’re at it,” she said, shaking her head and returning her attention to the shipment needing to be unpacked.

“I’m serious.”

She slowed to a halt, clutching the box in her arms. As much as she longed to disbelieve him, Vlad’s soft eyes said otherwise.

“You’re a hard worker, first and foremost,” Vlad elaborated. “Simon might not have wanted another enforcer roaming the store, but knowing you’re not afraid to stand up for yourself and others is quite admirable.”

“He keeps telling me I scare away customers.”

It was Vlad’s turn to laugh. “He doesn’t know what else to contribute the drop in sales to this season, but that’s been an ongoing issue far before you arrived in the Courtyard, trust me. But....” Vlad leaned in to whisper. “You know how Wolfgard are. Can’t have anyone else asserting dominance on their turf.”

She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it.”

Vlad smiled, smug as ever, and raised his voice once more. “And second off, I’m pleased you’ve made a friend with Nyx. That’s... not exactly an easy task to accomplish and whoever makes her happy... well, that makes the rest of the Sanguinati happy.”

A friend. Was that what Vlad and his kin saw each time she and Nyx ventured elsewhere like two, giggling schoolgirls from a trashy human novel? The word echoed in her head until it festered in her core and hollowed her soul.

_She_ _’s never given me any reason to think we’re more than friends,_ Tess tried to reason in hopes to banish the plague spreading through her body. _But... she_ _’s also never hinted that we were_ only _friends._

Tess recalled each venture into the city, inches away from Nyx as they prowled the night for another toy to add to their growing collection. Sometimes she chuckled and leaned in close to purr ploys into Tess’ ear. Raw excitement soaked her tongue as the words poured out. Chills raced up and down Tess’ body before settling between her legs to smolder. She restrained the need to moan back to Nyx, to lean into her, to bask in those pheromones meant to lure idiot monkeys, to utterly lose herself in the woman she refused to banish from her every thought.

“ _We_ _’re quite a team, you and I,_ ” Nyx had said just the other week.

A snake-like hand wrapped around Tess’ shoulder with hypnotic eyes to match. Whatever willpower she once possessed shattered as she dove into that intense stare. Perhaps it was a Sanguinati trick, a natural allure which overpowered both humans and _terra indigene_ , but infatuation trumped reason and thus Tess gazed without flinching.

“ _You make hunting more thrilling than it_ _’s ever been,_ ” Tess had uttered back.

Her lips tugged into a slight, short-lived smirk. “ _And I look forward to these nights with you._ ”

“ _Do you?_ ”

Was that a chuckle humming on her lips? “ _More than anything._ ”

She should have kissed her then. Even if for once to claim she had and never again. Anxiety rolled in her stomach until nausea surfaced. There was a reason Tess hid behind thick walls from all of society. No need to draw attention to who and what she was. The most fearsome predators were best left asleep and the thought of poking at Nyx, a woman she considered an equal, until she bore more than her fangs in retaliation....

_I can_ _’t... I shouldn’t._

Still, when Tess wandered the urban streets with Nyx, the thought occurred more than once—maybe she didn’t have to leave. Maybe she could stay. Someone like Nyx was enough reason, in a sense. It had been ages since someone drew her in like a moth to a flame; she almost forgot what it was like to bond with someone. Anyone.

_And then what? Run away the moment she confirms she thinks nothing more of you than a hunting partner? This is why you_ _’re better off alone. All this... just complicates matters. But what if... what if perhaps... just maybe...._

Why would any of it matter? Besides, she was simply a _friend_. Nothing more.

Tess fluttered her eyes and forced a breath through her lungs. “Yeah. We really get along.”

“And I think,” Vlad said, “she’d be disappointed if her new favorite hunting partner left town, so to speak.”

No sign of him acknowledging her hesitation. It was better that way. For both of them.

“She’d get by fine on her own,” Tess mumbled out.

Vlad sighed. “Here I was hoping it would be enough to convince you to stay long-term. Then again, she’s no stranger to being alone.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that not many people meet her standards. She tolerates those living in the Courtyard out of civility, just as I imagine you’re humoring me with this conversation, because I’m one half of your boss.”

“Power dynamics can be a bitch,” she muttered.

At least he chuckled at that. “But it can be lonely soaring high above on your own while looking down upon everyone else.”

“I’m pretty comfortable with my figurative high flying.”

“As is she.” Vlad smiled. “What gift it would be to fly together.”

Tess sighed and closed her eyes briefly. _I can_ _’t jeopardize my one shot here. I just need to save up enough money and get out. That’s it. No hooking up with the drop dead gorgeous Sanguinati. Piss off one and every vampire in Thaisia marks you as their enemy._

“I keep teasing Grandfather Erebus about the two of you.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No, it’s just... he’s been playing… what’s that human word? Matchmaker? He’s been doing that with Nyx for _years_. Every eligible male he brings to the Courtyard she shuns no differently than the ponies do towards flies.”

“Maybe she’s not interested.” _Or maybe she doesn_ _’t like dick._

“If she wishes to preserve our bloodline, she should be.”

_Not exactly what I meant by interested, but good to know you_ _’re no different from shifters and their archaic mating ideologies._

“Regardless, I keep telling him that it’s a shame you’re not—”

“I’d swallow down whatever you’re thinking, if I were you,” Tess said through a clenched jaw, “unless you’d like me to cut out your tongue _and_ brain.”

Vlad stepped back. Tess swore sweat lined his forehead or perhaps it was a trick of the light.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend you or... um....”

“Or _what_?”

He gestured a hand in her direction, though his eyes averted slightly elsewhere. “The death color.”

_The... what?_

“Your hair, it... the human you confronted a while back. He died and... well, your hair... it....”

“The _death_ color?”

“Black,” Vlad blurted out. “I’m not asking for an explanation. Merely an observation. Simon started it, anyways.”

Tess blinked. “I need to get back to my work, Vlad.”

“Yes, of course.”

Vlad skittered elsewhere and Tess navigated through Howling Good Reads. She dropped the shipment box onto a nearby table and retreated to the employee-only bathroom. With the door locked and the lights flicked on, she gazed into the mirror. Black threaded through her red curls, though her mask remained for the time being.

She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the onslaught of giggles wishing to burst free. She grinned until her face ached. Joyful tears squeezed past her shut eyes.

_The death color._ She snorted. _Wow, that is rich. I_ _’ve never heard that one before._

It was enough to banish the other thought screaming front and center. Perhaps not forever, but the time being. Nyx had a way of sneaking into her mind when she least expected it, anyways.

 

* * *

 

Tess leaned her back into the closed door and raked her hands through her wild hair. Vlad’s words still chimed in her ears, despite her efforts. Nothing but red framed her face. At this rate, most of the Courtyard assumed the fiery complexion was her natural hue. That amused her as much as “the death color.” What sort of names did Simon have for this? The angry color? Tess snorted. It was a rather vague, blanket term for the complex nature that was her hair, but it humored her all the same.

But not enough to silence those blasted words haunting her.

With a groan, Tess shoved herself away from the door to march into the kitchen. She gathered whatever leftovers lingered in the fridge to peel and chop into a large pot to simmer. Eventually, it would cook down to a reasonable stew and thus an adequate dinner. In the meantime, Tess lost herself to pastry arts.

One of the neighboring _terra indigene_ —Henry, she recalled—offered her a jar of cranberries from his stock after discovering her fuming over the limited produce options at Meat-n-Greens. He expected nothing in return, except for her to use them well. Tess shoved them to the back of the fridge, forgotten for a week. Maybe poison laced the container or what he believed to be cranberries were not the textbook definition of any berry at all. Tess unearthed the jar, cracked it open, and popped one in her mouth. No trickery teased her mouth—only a taste she recognized like the snowflakes outside associated with winter.

She smiled. _Oh yes_ _… these will do just fine._

Flour and chilled butter coated her hands. Tess folded dried cranberry halves into the dough. Her mind went blank. Loose hair brushed past her shoulders. All the while, her smile never faded.

The usual recipe called for the dough to be sectioned into eight pieces. Tess knew better by now than to make eight, measly pieces. She prepped for three balls of dough in anticipation that most of it went to her… well, maybe friends wasn’t the correct word. A growing audience, perhaps.

Like clockwork, a tiny tap sounded from the window once Tess finished dividing the dough. She glanced up. Every Crow in the Courtyard crowded each window to peer in.

<Pie?>

<Pie?!>

<Is it pie time?>

<What kind of pie?>

<Ooo hand pies?!>

<Yummy pies!>

<Pies!>

<Pies! Pies! Pies! Pie—>

<If you feather brains keep it up,> Tess snapped after slipping the first tray into the oven, <I’ll have to eat all of these scones by myself.>

Every Crow head cocked in a different direction.

<Scones?>

<Not pies?>

<Scones _like_ a pie?>

<A scone pie?>

<Hand scones?>

Tess snorted and crossed her arms. <I make more than just pies, for the record. Scones are different, but still a baked good.>

Crystal cawed and ruffled her feathers. <I want pie!>

<Then go scavenge the dumpster of some bakery on the other side of Lakeside. Won’t be fresh, I can tell you that much.>

Several other Crows glared at Crystal. Perhaps they engaged in their own mental dispute with the silence that passed. Eventually, Crystal lowered her head.

<I guess I’ll like scone pie.>

Tess smirked. _That_ _’s what I thought._

A decadent aroma filled the apartment, combined with the sweet and savory profiles of her stew and scones alike. Tess rotated trays from the oven, baking a fresh batch and transferring hot scones to a cooling rack. Beady eyes followed her every movement. Several dared to question her process, curious about what else there was to bake aside from pies. _I suppose I had been making a lot of hand pies every week,_ Tess thought. A classic favorite of hers. Far less stressful than an actual pie, yet just as tasty and even easier to munch on. Even then, it was but a fraction of her baking prowess.

Tess piled scones onto a plate, all warm to the touch. She balanced the plate in one hand and pried a window open with the other. Black heads poked inside while the remaining Crows crowded around the cracked window.

<Could one of you do me a favor?> Tess asked. <Any of you know where Henry lives?>

Every Crow answered in sync with an overwhelming <Yes!>, which both amused and disturbed Tess.

<If I could have someone deliver a scone to—> “Hey!”

A beak stole a scone from the plate. Feathers scattered as multiple Crows fought for the first bite. The culprit tried to swallow the entire scone in one gulp, resulting in the baked good crumbling from their beak to spill both on the floor and onto the streets.

Tess held the plate back. “What are you doing?! Just because I’m handing out samples doesn’t mean you scarf it down like you’ve never eaten so much as a crumb before!”

The commotion of caws and feathers settled down, each Crow involved hanging their head. <Sorry. It smells so yummy.>

“These are different from pies,” Tess scolded. “A lot denser and not flaky. Don’t try to shove it all into your mouth in one go. You might choke.”

<Not for big bites?>

“No.” She lifted her free hand to display an inch of space between her pointer finger and thumb. “Little bites.”

<What about... medium bites?>

“ _Little_ bites.”

<Little bites.>

Tess sighed and extended a scone. One Crow cautiously accepted the treat and pecked at it with several others.

<Little bites,> they reminded one another every other second.

The Crows dispersed from the window sill as her plate emptied. With one left, Tess scanned over the remaining Crowgard.

<Jenni?>

One head popped up from enjoying the scone. <Yes?>

She smiled; with how often the Crowgard visited, their subtle differences in stature and body language shined through. <Could you give this last one to Henry? Let him know I used the cranberries he gave me.>

Jenni received the final scone with a proud _caw_ and flew off. The others followed her, bringing their share of scones along in their talons. With both her apartment and mind silent, Tess smiled, closed the window, and enjoyed her share of scones and stew.


	7. Chapter 7

Snow quietly floated through the air. The storm persisted through the Courtyard, thanks to a certain Elemental having fun, though the thick, white veil blurring the world left little to be desired in terms of travel. Tess counted on one hand the number of people who dared to enter Howling Good Reads. Why venture midday for a new book when it was perfect weather for snuggling by the fire and rereading a worn favorite? Neither was an option for Tess as she dusted the bookshelves a third time. Though with Simon and Vlad tied up with inventory checks, Tess slumped against a book display and stared out the window.

_I_ _’m not sure getting paid to be bored to tears is a plus,_ she thought, drumming fingers along the display table. _Wish I was baking. Or cooking. Always something to do in a kitchen._ She sighed. _Would it kill them to even set up a coffee and tea station in here? What cretin reads a book without something to drink?_

Droopy eyes wandered about the interior. Nothing but the ticking seconds from the wall clock kept her company. A thought crossed her mind. Tess quirked her lips. Groaning, she pushed herself to stand and perused the books for something to read.

Fingertips skimmed the untouched spines of Wolfgard thrillers, Sanguinati poetry, and Crowgard cozies. Few human authors graced the shelves, most piled on a corner table; better to separate by author types than to receive another human complaint about _their_ idea of mystery not aligning with a _terra indigene_ _’s_ concept. As for Tess, she gravitated towards the selection based off of old myths and legends, where authors wove their own versions of the world. Nothing intellectually stimulating, but mind candy had its place. Why read about the life she already lived when she could escape elsewhere?

She thumbed through several books, most returning to their place after Tess refused to read beyond the first page. Words were no different from baking to her; too much or too little of a particular ingredient yielded various results. She was more in a savory, buttery mood than a dry, yet sugar-coated mood. The few books which held her interest past the first page left her smiling. She flipped the pages with delicate fingers, losing herself to the prose and forgetting her surroundings—the mark of an excellent story, by her judgment.

And also the perfect distraction as smoke crawled towards her.

“Well don’t you look pleased with—”

A small yelp rattled Tess. She and her hair shot upright, the book tumbling from her hands to smack into the floor. Upon catching her breath and balance, she discovered Nyx inches away.

She failed to hide a grin behind her hand. “I didn’t take you to be the type that startled easily.”

Tess heaved out a breath, though her red curls tightened nonetheless. “I didn’t even hear the damn bell go off.”

Nyx shrugged. “Doors can be a hassle. I was already traveling by smoke through this weather, anyways.” She giggled and leaned forward. “It wasn’t my intention to scare you. I promise.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She gathered the fallen book and returned it to the shelf. “Vlad’s in the back still, if you’re looking for him.”

“Hmmm... he can wait.”

Her eyes returned to Nyx, who leaned into the bookshelf, arms delicately crossed against her velvet-clad body. Black fur lined her sleeves and collar, though not a snowflake caught in them. And those dark eyes... they gazed upon Tess and nothing else.

“I didn’t know you liked books,” Nyx said with a smirk.

Tess snorted. “Is that a mark against my hunting cred?”

Nyx flashed a toothy grin. “Hardly.”

“In that case,” Tess chuckled out, “then yes, I love books. It’s a nice break from life. Don’t have to worry about anything except where the journey takes me.”

“That’s quite lovely.”

“And you?”

She swore Nyx moaned while deep in contemplation. “I can be a picky reader. As much as I love a good spine-chiller, few have been able to elicit so much as a gasp out of me.” Nyx rolled her eyes. “Even my own kin who claim to be writers are eluded by the most basic of concepts.”

Tess bit back her own smirk. “Have you ever read anything by Sandra Hawkgard?”

“Can’t say the name is familiar.”

Curling her fingers, Tess led Nyx to the thriller section. “She mostly writes epic tales of the old times, but she’s a horror storyteller at heart. Some of her more modern narratives—” Tess plucked out a hardcover by the name of _To Silence the Darkness_ and offered it to Nyx. “—might pique your interest.”

As Nyx examined the summary, Tess held her breath. A brief biography detailed Sandra’s prolific career with no visual. And with good reason. Tess read enough of her books to come to her own conclusions; the name was but a pseudonym, for no shifter, let alone Hawkgard, could intricately write dreadful experiences parallel to a Harvester. Plenty of _terra indigene_ ceased reading her stories in an attempt to keep their lunch in their stomachs while Tess pushed forward, hungry for more.

And if Nyx Sanguinati didn’t flinch at—or question, more importantly—the dead bodies Tess accumulated after a night of hunting, then perhaps she could stomach and enjoy the recommended title.

After cracking the book open to skim the opening page, Nyx closed it, smirked, and returned her attention to Tess. “I guess I’ll have something new to keep me company at night.”

Tess processed Nyx’s purchase at the cash register. She frowned at the plain paper bags used to tucked newly bought books into. _There are plenty of artists in the area,_ Tess mused. _Simon could hire one to print logos on here. Let others know this place is on the map._

“Something wrong?”

She shrugged and made a face. “Nothing I can help out with, anyways.” When Nyx tilted her head, Tess dared to elaborate. “I just work here, so to speak. Any ideas I give to Simon to better facilitate _anything_ are met with growls.”

“How dare a woman give him advice.” Nyx rolled her eyes. “If it makes you feel better, Vlad has expressed his frustrations from time to time.”

“Not really. For all I know, he doesn’t trust me due to my plans to leave eventually.”

Soft, yet half-hearted laughter spilled from Nyx. “And here I hoped the Crowgard were spreading rumors.”

No amount of baked treats could silence those talkative shifters. “I... it was never in my plan to—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Tess. We all have our reasons for how we go about life. I don’t appreciate a Wolf lecturing me on what _they_ deem to be proper and vice versa.” The corners of her delicate lips turned up. “I understand.”

“But that doesn’t mean you like it.”

“I don’t like _many_ things.” She shifted and leaned into the counter separating them. “But I like _you_.”

Red flooded Tess’ face. Her hair swirled up to her chin. _Did... I just imagine that?_

Coherent thoughts eluded Tess. She licked her dry lips. Her heart raced like the pulses of her victims upon witnessing her true form. What words existed to do justice for how she felt?

“And if you do intend to leave sooner than later,” Nyx continued, “I would like to spend that time in between _not_ alone.”

Swallowing hard, Tess mustered enough courage to speak. “What did you have in mind?”

Nyx smoothed a hand over the paper bag enveloping her book. Fangs peeked out from behind her grin. “You said you enjoy stories. What are your sentiments on films?”

 

* * *

 

“And this is it.”

Tess held the door open for Nyx to enter. She glided in, hands folded over one another as her sharp eyes absorbed every square inch. Tess chewed her lip and closed the door. Her first guest. The thought never crossed her mind to invite anyone when she claimed the apartment above Howling Good Reads as her own, but who was she to decline Nyx’s suggestion of a movie night?

“It’s small,” Nyx eventually said.

“I don’t need much space.” So long as there was a functional kitchen, everything else was gravy to Tess.

Nyx pursed her lips. “It could use some personal touches.” The unspoken lingered between them—why bother decorating when Tess held no aspirations for settling in?

“Well, it’s a roof over my head. Keeps the cold out. And the television _does_ work.”

“I’ll make sure the rest does, as well.”

Nyx procured several tapes from the folds of her gown. She spoke at great lengths about Grandfather Erebus’ love for vintage films and their viewing sessions together. Tess envied the tradition Nyx shared with Erebus, though when she promised to bring several from his collection for their own enjoyment, anxiety and giddiness overwhelmed her until the designated night arrived. While Nyx fiddled with the built-in tape player, Tess gathered snacks and blankets for the couch.

“You need a better set-up,” Nyx muttered.

“It is called an efficiency apartment for a reason.”

“Perhaps I can ask Grandfather if you’re allowed to visit. He has an entertainment room specifically for movies.”

Tess curled up on the couch and munched on her popcorn with a contorted face. “That sounds… really excessive.”

“Well,” Nyx drew out, peaking back to smirk at her, “when you love something as much as he does, you go out of your way to make sure you enjoy it as best as you can.”

Tess’ mind wandered back to a place she once called her own. Modern appliances sat on marble countertops with cookbooks lining the walls. Every tool and container had its place and purpose, neatly organized and cleaned. Of all the descriptions she found in books of what it meant to be at home, Tess resonated with an old passage detailing a calm, warm heart persisting through a storm. It was in that kitchen she found what it meant to be at home.

And all she salvaged amidst her escape were the recipes she memorized out of repetition.

The lights flickered off. Nothing but the monitor glowed in the dark room. Weight shifted beside Tess and she swore Nyx grinned in the shadows.

“Always better when the lights are off,” she murmured, grabbing several kernels of popcorn to toss into her mouth.

The black and white cinematography bored Tess, but as the story progressed, she discovered identical themes to horror novels she grew up reading. The work of a _terra indigene_ , no doubt; no human fathomed or stomached such terrifying depths. Her eyes wandered several times to inspect Nyx. The movie rendered her frozen in awe no matter how many times she watched it. Only her hand and lips moved to munch on popcorn.

Tess longed to inch closer, maybe even curl up in her lap while they continued their movie binge. That’s what people did in the books she read. Then again, those same characters screamed at supposedly scary moments when Tess opted to snort and snicker. So did Nyx, for that matter. _Better not press my luck,_ Tess thought, smothering the sentiment with more popcorn.

“You want more?” Tess jiggled the empty bowl once the movie finished.

Nyx shrugged. “I’m fine, though it does help set the mood. Can’t help but feel as if I’m eating buttery air with it. I’m sure humans find it more appealing.”

_Don_ _’t I know that all too well._ For all the creations she concocted in her kitchen, Tess received trivial nourishment from them, if any at all. Though she refilled their bowl while Nyx swapped out movies. She was right—it did set the mood.

Neither touched the popcorn after ten minutes into the next feature. Tess clung to the leading earth native lady—a femme fatale sprinkling clues elsewhere to mislead human detectives and cover her own devious deeds. Not far off from the equally clever and gorgeous woman sitting beside her. Tess mentally rooted for the character to evade authorities and avenge her departed family. Her only complaint was that the story came to an eventual end.

“They need to make more movies like that,” Tess murmured when the credits rolled.

Nyx hummed. “It always gives me chills, no matter how many times I’ve seen it.” She chuckled at herself. “I grew up watching this.”

“I would have never guessed,” Tess teased.

“What can I say?” Nyx spoke through her laughter. “I have a type.”

Tess slumped further into the couch. Maybe if she applied more effort to her physical appearance outside of jeans, boots, and a shirt, then Nyx’s would notice. She scrunched up her face at the concept of having to walk anywhere in stiletto heels, a pencil skirt, and a full face of make-up.

“What’s the matter?”

Nyx leaned in to bump shoulders with Tess. Dark, curious eyes met with hers, awaiting an answer.

Tess parted her lips and closed them several times before she unearthed the right words. “I wish I looked even _half_ as good as her.”

“Don’t we all? Have you _seen_ her legs?”

_Have you seen your own?_ “At least you can pull off a pretty dress. Simon probably looks better in one than I do.”

Nyx snorted at the mental image. “I never wear these to be pretty, you know.”

_Fooled me._ “Then why?”

She perched a hand upon Tess’ shoulder. “When I was young and watched these old movies with Grandfather, I loved the silly, fantastical ones with knights and royalty. Maybe other girls my age wished to be the princess, but I wanted to be a knight with my own sword and armor. I remember I cried when Grandfather told me no one wore such outfits anymore. But then we watched the ones where the ladies wore intricate dresses and won every battle of wits imaginable. You know what Grandfather told me?” Nyx averted her eyes and smiled. “He said those ladies wore their dresses like armor and their sword was their tongues and minds. That always stuck with me. And so....” She shrugged. “That’s the story. A childish thought I never grew out of.”

“I don’t think it’s childish.”

“You don’t have to lie to me to—”

“No, I’m serious, Nyx.”

Tess rested her hand on Nyx’s and her eyes returned to her.

“Because I know what it’s like to live your whole life wanting to be brave and independent,” Tess said. “Some days are better than others and... you don’t feel like you can defend yourself, let alone anyone else. So you do what you can to remind yourself that you _are_ a knight. Maybe it’s in a dress or lipstick or worn boots or a hoodie... but if it helps? If that’s what it means to live the life _you_ want? Then do it. Be your own knight and never wait for someone else to save you. Anyone who doesn’t understand that isn’t worth your time.”

Silence drifted between them. The tape player churned and spat out the completed movie. Static filled the monitor—the only light within the apartment. It was enough to highlight the subtle curve on Nyx’s lips.

“I used to tell myself that I never wanted anyone to save me,” Nyx said.

“ _Used_ to?”

Long fingers intertwined with Tess’.

“And then I met you.”

Nyx squeezed her hand. Swallowing hard, Tess reciprocated the gesture. Had Nyx slipped closer or was the dim lighting fooling her? Tess froze, stuck between longing to scream and pounce.

The distinct tap on the window behind them freed Tess from her reverie.

<Little bite?>

Nyx knitted her brows together and Tess smacked her face with a sigh. Amassing at the windows were not only the Crowgard, but several Hawkgard and Owlgard, too.

<Little bite?> they continued to ask.

“I didn’t realize you had grown so popular with the Crows,” Nyx said, equal parts intrigued and annoyed.

“Well... that’s one way to put it.”

<Little bite?>

<Not tonight,> Tess fired back.

<But... the Tess always makes little bites on Moonsday nights.>

She sighed. <I’ll do something tomorrow night, okay?> And yet the Crows with their friends continued to stare at Tess. “Really? This is what we’re doing?”

“What exactly,” Nyx spoke slowly, “is a little bite?”

“It’s....” Her hair swished about her cheeks. “I like baking.”

Nyx raised both eyebrows. “ _Baking_?”

“Yeah and I made the mistake of giving some samples to the Crows and now they’re _always_ coming by to have some and if I had realized it would be like _this_ , I wouldn’t have—”

The squeeze of her hand silenced Tess, but it was that bright grin which made her reconsider.

“You’re telling me all this time we could have been munching on your baked goods instead of popcorn?”

Tess blushed. “I... well, popcorn seemed better, all things considered.”

A muffled giggled left those lips. “And here I am intruding on your ritual baking night.”

“You’re not—” She inhaled deeply. “It’s okay. Really.”

“You know what I think?” Nyx wiggled in place. “Let’s turn this movie night into a baking night.”

Tess blinked. “It can, um... take a long time. The baking, that is.”

And Nyx never flinched. “I don’t mind. I have all night.”

 

* * *

 

Yeast trickled out of the oven and into the air. Tess cradled a bowl and whisked soft butter, cinnamon, and brown sugar together, grateful she invested in a proper, metal whisk several weeks ago. Nothing compared to her prized and long abandoned stand mixer, but it did the job. With a heavy sigh, she tapped the whisk along the edge, settled the bowl down, and checked her dough proofing in the oven. Tess smiled, hummed, and removed the bowl.

All eyes focused on Tess as she sprinkled flour on the table to roll the dough out. She wasn’t sure which was more impressive in the silence: all the Crows and their friends or Nyx. Perhaps the sweat forming at her brow was from both the vigorous physical activity and the anxiety when it came to impressing a certain lady. Tess didn’t ask; she simply worked.

Gooey sauce spread evenly across the dough. Tucking worn fingers underneath, Tess rolled the stretch of dough like a jelly roll. Her audience by the windows shifted for a closer look when she cut sections with a warmed knife. All the while, Nyx remained perched against the fridge, arms crossed and lips curled.

“Alright.” Tess tucked the first tray into the oven and clapped her hands. “That’ll be a while, but worth the wait.” She eyed Nyx. “Do you want some coffee or tea to go with it?”

Her smile widened. “What would _you_ suggest?”

“Honestly?” Tess chuckled at herself. “I like my cinnamon rolls with a glass of milk.”

“Better make it two glasses, then.” She paused. “Where did you learn all of this?”

Tess paused at the cupboards. “The baking?” When Nyx nodded, she released a breath and dove through her thoughts. “I’m self-taught.”

“No one… what’s that human saying? Showed you the ropes?”

“Not really. I shoved my nose into whatever cookbook I could find and went about recipes by trial and error.”

“That’s _it_?”

“Yeah?”

“If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed you spent every waking moment working in a bakery of your own.”

A pitiful laugh trickled out of Tess. _Maybe this wasn_ _’t a good idea, after all._

“What’s so amusing about that?”

Tess poured their milk and faced Nyx. “I used to work in kitchens. _A lot_ of kitchens, actually. It was the one place where I could hide out of plain sight and get paid under the table without question. I guess it helped that I had a knack for it. Nothing special, though. Mostly chopped vegetables or prepped set-up for the morning bakes or made frostings and custards or… picked up the shipments or….” She sighed and brushed curly hair out of her face. “Swept the floors and took out the trash.” Tess shook her head. “It was never _mine_ , though. Always someone else’s.”

“And what’s stopping you from having your own place?”

Threads of black emerged in her hair despite her best efforts. “Because I’ve spent my whole life _not_ staying in one place. It was better and _safer_ that way. For me _and_ the population at large. The longer I stay in a single place, the….” She closed her eyes and hoped the memories of her last escape bled away. “The bigger the target becomes on my back.”

A trembling breath skidded through her throat as she forced her glossy eyes open. Nyx never moved, though that smile vanished.

“There’s a reason none of you know what I am,” Tess continued, loathing the waver in her voice. “My kind… there aren’t many of us. I’ve never even met someone else like me. Maybe that’s for the best. All I do is bring death wherever I go.”

“That’s not true,” Nyx said.

“For fuck’s sake.”

She spun around and lowered her head. Of course she ruined the night with her own demons. And Crowgard were watching. Even better. Come sunrise, word would spread like wildfire across the Courtyard of Tess’ antics. That was enough reason to result in her removal from Lakeside.

A cautious hand settled on her back.

<I know what you are.>

Tess hitched her breath and froze. <And?>

Fingers curled into her shoulder. <And I don’t care.>

Maybe she imagined that voice in her head. Same with the caress across her tense muscles. Regardless, Tess yearned for it to never end.

<How did you—>

<Does it matter?> Nyx snickered and wrapped her arms around Tess from behind. <I used to read books about your kind. I thought they were myths. Is it silly that I wished I was a plague rider as a child?>

Plague rider. How long had it been since she heard _that_ name? <When did you know?>

<With you?> Nyx flowed around Tess, drifting through smoke and physical form alike until she faced her. <Isn’t it obvious?> When Tess shook her hanging head, Nyx lifted it with a single finger. <When a certain someone swooped in to save me with hair blacker than mine.>

Tess searched those dark eyes for a hint of a lie. Nothing glimmered there but admiration. <I don’t scare you?>

Nyx tilted her head. “When I’m with you, Tess, I feel alive.”

Tender arms enveloped Tess. She clung back and buried her face into Nyx’s shoulder, careful not to ruin the velvet with her tears.

“You… you won’t—”

“My lips are sealed,” Nyx murmured, her cheeks perched against Tess’ temple. “Besides, ladies like us best stick together, regardless of what we are.” She poked Tess’ ribs. “Keeps the boys on their toes.”

“Someone has to.”

They chuckled together before yielding to the silence.

“Where will you go next?” Nyx asked.

“I haven’t thought that far out.”

“Then we better make the most of our time together.”

Her eyes flashed open. “What did you—”

A buzzer sounded. Crows cawed and flapped their wings in unison.

<Little bite!>

<It’s time!>

<Is little bite ready now?>

Tess pried herself away, glared at the Crows, and shot a look back to Nyx. “Look, the apartment came without curtains.”

A smirk wiggled onto her face. “If you say so.”

Sipping in air, Tess dried her eyes and returned her focus on baking. A burst of cinnamon flowed out of the oven as she removed the trays for cooling. Nyx approached, inhaling deep and exhaling out a moan. Tess cleaned up the kitchen to the best of her ability before topping her creations with generous amounts of frosting.

“Are they ready?” Nyx asked.

“Hmm….” She poked one. “Still needs time to cool.” Nyx pouted and Tess laughed. “Would hate for you to burn your mouth.”

“I like to think it would be worth it.”

<Little bite?!>

“They’re _cooling_ ,” she barked at the Crows.

After the sixth question from the window audience, Tess tossed her hands up, retrieved a plate, and gathered enough cinnamon buns for the Crows and Hawks _and_ Owls to enjoy.

“Don’t come complaining to me if you burn your beaks off,” Tess muttered, cracking the window open enough to offer the plate.

Piece by piece, the Crows took their share, reminding their kin to not swallow an entire bun in one go. <Little bite,> they echoed amongst each other. Even the Hawks and Owls chimed in with the mantra. They all puffed up their chests and thanked Tess, flying into the night with their bellies full.

“You know,” Tess drew out, swiping the last cinnamon bun on the crumb-filled plate, “I’m starting to think that when I _do_ leave, the damn Crowgard are going to follow me forever in search for free samples.” She sunk her teeth into the luscious mixture of brown sugar and warm, soft dough. “Mmm… been a while since I’ve made these. Still damn good.”

Nyx’s silence worried Tess, but the sight of her gobbling up her own cinnamon bun left Tess grinning.

“Well?”

Nyx paused to sip on her milk and lick her lips. “My biggest disappointment is knowing this will never satisfy me the way fresh blood does, because if it did, I might as well spend the rest of my days eating nothing but whatever this is.”

“A cinnamon bun,” Tess giggled out. “I didn’t know Sanguinati had a sweet tooth.”

“Sweet _fang_ ,” Nyx corrected her and tore another chunk out of her share. “We _do_ feed on humans and whatever _they_ consume, we do, too, in a sense.”

“I can’t help but have this mental image of you preying on people first thing in the morning after having their sugar fix from a bakery.”

Nyx’s eyes widened. “I never thought of that.”

Tess roared with laughter. “Shall we make that our next playtime destination?”

Nyx’s excitement deflated. “I don’t know of any bakeries in Lakeside. Nothing as good as _this_ , though. Most of the ones I’ve heard of are rundown and don’t smell anywhere close to this little bite.”

“Careful, the Crowgard are rubbing off on you.”

“There are _far_ worse influences in the Courtyard, believe me.” Nyx shoved the rest of her cinnamon bun into her mouth, sucked her fingers clean, and faced Tess. “And _you_ , my dear, do not give yourself enough credit.”

Tess raised an eyebrow and munched slowly. “What do you mean?”

“You claim to be self-taught as if it were a bad thing, but who has a drive like that these days? You certainly don’t get proper sustenance from these treats and yet you slave over a stove and oven to create these, because…?”

Her eyes fell from Nyx’s for but a moment. “To make myself seem less scary.” When Nyx didn’t respond, Tess continued. “People love baked goods. They make people happy, even if it doesn’t nourish them. When I bake, I forget about what I am and how people view me and… all I focus on is how it makes _me_ happy. I spend my days taking away life from others. It’s nice to give it back once and a while.”

“Don’t you think,” Nyx said, inching closer to Tess, “a vision like that is worth sharing?”

“You mean aside from the Crowgard?”

Nyx grinned. “Yes.”

“I… I don’t know.” But what she did know was that when she gazed into Nyx’s eyes, that maybe—just _maybe_ —it wasn’t that lucrative of an idea.

“Well, I’m no master baker, but you know what I know?”

“What’s that?”

She lifted her hand and tucked wavy, green-streaked hair behind Tess’ ear. Fingertips skimmed her jaw until a thumb swiped the corner of her mouth. Tess held her breath and Nyx sucked the frosting from her digit.

“I know that when you’re baking,” Nyx purred, “that’s when you’re the happiest.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The Crowgard were right all along; your hair _does_ relax when you bake.”

Tess blinked. Thoughts connected in her mind until she gasped. “Wait, _you_ were the one who sent the Crowgard here from the beginning?!”

“Oh, hush. At least it wasn’t Simon.”

“Can’t argue with you on that one, but… why?”

“Why not? It’s not every day a lovely, strange woman stumbles into your turf and kills a monkey for you.”

And when Tess laughed, all the green faded from her hair until a hue reminiscent of her cinnamon bun filling remained.


	8. Chapter 8

“You know what people _do_ like?”

Simon ceased his conversation with Vlad, slowly turning to narrow his sights onto Tess. She stood tall, head held high, and braced an elbow on a nearby bookshelf. Both of the men transitioned from whispered conversations in the back about the declining sales to grumbling out in the open. Even a human could hear them, never mind an earth native.

For Tess, that worked to her advantage.

“What?” Simon asked, both sighing and growling the word out.

“Some hospitality,” Tess said after a beat.

Now he was _definitely_ growling and nothing else. Just as she predicted.

“And what do _you_ know about hospitality?” Simon shot back.

Tess shrugged, feigning disinterest. “I guess not a whole lot, but I know all the bookstores _I_ _’ve_ been to in my lifetime? Not like this.”

“And how many _terra indigene_ operated bookstores have you been to, hmm?”

“Enough to know that even a simple coffee machine in the corner is remedial knowledge.”

Another growl. “If you want coffee, make it yourself.”

“I’m not talking about myself.” Tess raised her voice, but Simon turned away from her. _Typical._ She marched up to him and Vlad, her green hair marked with red curls. “Just because you have books on the shelves doesn’t mean that’s all you need to run a store. What is it about Howling Good Reads that stands out against the rest?”

“Because we’re the only one in the Courtyard,” Simon enunciated, “in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Even more reason to cater to the patrons. If someone brand new walks in and sees _you_ barking away at whoever you please—”

“I don’t _bark_.”

“Whatever, the point is that all it takes is a first impression to turn away potential customers. If they don’t feel safe here, then maybe they’ll gladly take a hike to the opposite side of Lakeside to find something to read.”

“It is safe here, because _I_ _’m_ here.”

Deadpan eyes regarded Simon. “Uh-huh. Sure. I’m glad the _Wolfgard_ are comfortable here, but in case you didn’t notice, others live in the Courtyard, too.”

“What do you want me to do?! Cater to every, unique _terra indigene_ that exists?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

That laughter, however, wasn’t a part of the plan. No amount of prepping braced Tess for that backhanded response.

“And what do you suggest,” Simon asked with a snide grin, “I should _try_ exactly?”

Red framed her paling face. Tess sucked in a breath, clasped her hands behind her back, and pierced Simon with determined eyes.

“Make this place feel like home,” she said. “People read for knowledge, for comfort, for escape. Anything to assist that experience would be beneficial to a true book lover. People love tea and coffee and cookies and soups and—”

“ _Cookies_?”

She rolled her eyes. “Baked goods in general. It’s like a home away from home. A retreat, if you will.”

Simon crossed his arms. Nothing left his clenched lips. No doubt he and Vlad exchanged a few, choice words before he dared to speak again.

“We have no facilities for a kitchen,” he said, his resounding voice prickling Tess’ skin.

“Then we’d make one.” She ignored Simon’s snort and pressed on. “You can easily condense the books into bigger shelves. It would make it seem like you have more in stock instead of these flimsy shelves everywhere.”

“They’re _not_ flimsy—”

“And with the extra space? You can easily put in a small cafe. Maybe not everyone is into books, but people need to eat, both humans and _terra indigene_. The extra foot traffic would help people remember this place exists.”

“They do know it exists!”

“Are you sure about that?” She gestured her chin to the register Simon and Vlad stood behind. “The paper bags you use for purchases? There’s nothing on them stating where it’s from. People see a logo on a bag someone’s carrying and then see this place down the street? Come on, Simon, put two and two together.”

“This isn’t your store! You expect me to bend backwards for your every demand?!”

“No, I don’t, but I also didn’t expect someone who supposedly knows how to ‘run a store’—” She made air quotes for emphasis. “—to act like this. Maybe if you _did_ know what you were doing, then maybe this place wouldn’t—”

“And how many stores have you operated? These cafes... have you ever managed one?”

Tess fluttered her eyes. Thoughts jumbled and words failed her.

“Where are we getting the money to fund this?” Simon rattled off. “Who are we hiring to build a kitchen? Who is even going to _make_ all these cookies and—”

“I will.”

Even Vlad perked up his brows. Fur ran up Simon’s neck. Red specks marked his amber eyes.

“ _You_? The one who is saving up enough to skip the Courtyard in the middle of the night?”

“I might have never managed anything of my own,” Tess said, ignoring the tremble in her words, “but I know my way around a kitchen and can cook and bake as well as the best of them.”

“If you’re as good as you say you are....” Simon leaned forward and bared his teeth. “Then why are you here, sweeping the floors and stocking the shelves?”

His smug demeanor faded the second he breathed life to those words. Simon stepped back. So did Vlad. Tess didn’t need a mirror to know what color lined her locks now.

“Fucking _forgive_ me for looking out for what was in my best interest instead of opening up a cafe,” Tess snarled. “And here I thought I finally found a reason to settle down and maybe _do_ some good, but what the fuck do _I_ know, right, Simon?”

A bookshelf groaned. The three of them flinched at the sharp, explosion-like commotion. On the other side of Howling Good Reads, hundreds of books splayed across the floors with a broken bookshelf on top. Looming over the chaos was a small, scrawny girl in nothing but a long, winter coat. Tess mistook the girl as a mischievous human, only to catch a glimpse of the feathers mixed in her black hair.

“The Tess makes little bites!” Jenni cried out with clenched fists. “The Tess is good at little bites! The Tess can do it!”

“Jenni,” Simon replied as if _she_ were the Wolf and _he_ was the Crow, “these matters don’t concern you—”

“We don’t want the Tess to leave! No one else will make us little bites!”

<Little... bites?>

Tess tried not to smirk at Vlad’s question. <I may or may not give my extras to the Crowgard... and the Owlgard... and the Hawkgard.>

“If the Crowgard want a... whatever it—”

“Little. _Bites_.” Jenni stomped her feet.

“Uh... that, yes—”

“We want the Tess to make them!”

“You’ve made that _quite_ clear.”

“But why don’t _you_ want the Tess to make them?! You’ve never even _had_ a little bite!”

Simon blinked. Tess turned away to bite her tongue from spilling out laughter.

“She, um....” Vlad shuffled closer, yet his whisper carried through the silent store. “She’s not _wrong_.”

“Shut up!” Simon snapped.

“Is that what it takes to convince you?” Tess asked. “Because I can—”

“No! This is _my_ store—”

“ _Our_ store,” Vlad corrected him.

“But _not_ Tess’! I won’t allow for this... this mutiny of sorts!”

Jenni let out a trill of a scream and kicked the fallen books with a bare foot. “Typical Wolfgard! I hope your store dies! The Crowgard never liked it!”

“Yeah? Well....” Simon huffed up. “I hope _your_ store—”

“And your bookshelves _are_ flimsy!”

The front door slammed behind Jenni as she skittered down the snow-covered streets.

“Well,” Vlad drew out, “making an enemy out of the Crowgard wasn’t on our agenda today—”

“This is _your_ fault!”

Simon fashioned a clawed finger at Tess. She scanned him over and raised an unimpressed brow.

“I didn’t knock over the bookshelf. Nor did I upset Jenni. That was all your doing. Trust me.”

“No kitchen! No cookies! No coffee! No tea! No bites of any shape or size! You either do your job or _leave_!”

Even if Tess organized her thoughts, they were lost to the raging Wolfard stomping in the opposite direction and tearing his clothing off. When the back door shut, Tess released a breath and combed her fingers through tight curls.

“Give him time,” Vlad spoke softly.

“I’m not even sure I want to give him anything after that,” she muttered back.

At least Vlad chuckled. “He’s not sure what to make of you. Simon’s not one for secrets.”

“And I’m not one for detailing my tragic backstory to every stranger I meet.”

“For what it’s worth, Simon is no stranger to me and I know he can get this way when others are right.”

“Feel sorry for whoever his mate is.”

“He’ll go on a run and get whatever he can out of his system. Let _me_ talk to him. Perhaps I can convince him to see the positives in this proposal.”

Tess furrowed her brow. “I wasn’t expecting _you_ to take my side.”

Vlad sighed. “I have my doubts, but times _have_ been tough. I’ll try anything if it means keeping this store above water.”

She cracked a smile. “Thanks, Vlad.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. I’m not a miracle worker. For all I know, this cafe idea could be the financial death of us.” He paused. “But between us? I hope it does work.”

“Why’s that?”

“That means you’ll stay and I can think of at least one individual who would be pleased to know that.”

Tess’ eyes wandered, as did her mind. Curls loosened and faded to green, though the red hue lived on in her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

<Did I do okay?!>

Tess looked up from her book. The night hid whatever perched on her window, but she recognized the voice.

<You are a natural actress, Jenni.>

<I wasn’t trying to act. I said the truth.>

Tess chuckled. <Whatever it is you did, I think it worked.> She rose from the couch to fetch a plastic bag from the fridge. Cradling it with care, she propped open a window for Jenni.

<You sure you can carry this?>

A familiar Crow head poked inside. <Yup!>

<Then promise to not eat all of it on the way back. There’s enough for you and the others.>

Jenni jutted her head into the plastic bag and jerked back with a surprised _caw_. <Hand pie?!>

<More like a _pie_ pie.>

<Big hand pie!>

Tess smirked and rolled her eyes. <We can go with that.>

<Big bite?!>

<Look, I’m not going to judge how you eat this, but you still need to share. That was the deal.>

Jenni lowered her head before tangling the plastic handle around her talons. <Little bite... little bite... little bite....>

After helping Jenni maneuver the pie out the window, Tess leaned out to watch her fly off into the night. Maybe this _wasn_ _’t_ a good idea, but if she wanted to stay, she planned to do so on her _own_ terms.

 

* * *

 

Simon stumbled through the front door, his colorful words blaring over the chime sounding his entrance. Tess peeked through the gaps in the bookshelf. He flailed an arm at the few Crowgard and Owlgard who fluttered around his head. They retreated when he swiped the nearby broom to brandish, but the damage had already been done.

“That’s one way to wake up,” said the massive earth native by the front counter.

Tess snickered to herself. Simon paid little attention to Henry while taking his spot behind the cash register

“What did you do to ruffle the Crows’ feathers?” Henry asked.

“It’s been _five days_ now,” Simon coughed up. “Anytime I leave a building, they make sure to harass me.”

“A new game, maybe?”

“If only.”

Silence drifted through the store—another conversation not meant for her ears. Simon opted for that since Jenni destroyed a bookshelf, which, for the record, _was_ flimsy. But crossing a Crow meant more than slander and rumors; it was grounds for an eye to be pecked out.

Tess resumed dusting, spying through the cracks when possible. Henry rarely visited Howling Good Reads; she bumped into him more often at Meat-n-Greens than anywhere else. With Simon visibly easing before Henry, Tess gathered he at least respected the Beargard enough to not snap at his heels.

“You _what_?”

Tess hitched her breath and watched.

“I gave her some of my cranberries,” Henry explained, both smooth and clear, “and she used them to make those… I think it was a scone from what Jenni told me. She also called it a scone pie, so I’m not—”

“For all _you_ know, they scavenged it from a back alley.”

Henry stood a little taller. “I _know_ what my cranberries taste like. I only gave them to Tess. _She_ baked it.”

Not another word exchanged. Perhaps more mental banter, but Tess turned away to dust elsewhere, albeit with an extra bounce to her steps.

 

* * *

 

“Simon won’t be in today.”

Tess slowed the strokes of her sweeping to cock her head. “Is everything okay?”

Vlad joined her side and heaved out a sigh. “There was an… well, he had an _accident_.”

Odd. Jenni hadn’t clued her in on this ploy. “Did the Crows crap all over his favorite shirt again?”

“No, that would have been favorable in comparison.”

“So what happened?”

Vlad hesitated, then rushed his explanation. “Turns out Winter dumped enough snow on his home to prevent him from getting out.”

A tiny snort escaped Tess. “Winter? You mean the—”

“Oh yes. The one and only. Something about how the Crowgard shared a ‘big hand pie’ with her and spoke of how Simon didn’t like it.”

_That was never part of the arrangement. I_ _’m more surprised the Crowgard didn’t devour the pie in one night._

“I’m not sure if I should be upset with you or simply impressed,” Vlad added.

“You make it sound like I’m plotting to overthrow Simon.”

“And you seem to be enjoying these turn of events.”

“And you’re not?”

A smile graced his face. “I’m not sure who’s crazier: you or Simon.”

She paused and chewed her lip. “I can’t take credit for the Elementals joining forces.”

“No, but that says enough about you.”

Tess narrowed her eyes while red lined her hair. “And what _does_ it say about me?”

“That if Winter took a break in her last days before her long slumber to express her thoughts about _your_ baking? Then she must feel _quite_ strongly about it.”


	9. Chapter 9

<Is he still down there?>

No one sat outside her window, but Jenni’s voice rang through Tess’ mind. <Yup! Hasn’t moved in the past two hours.>

A small smile tugged at her lips. <Perfect. Thank you.>

She retrieved a plate from the cupboards and assembled the meal together. Chunks of seared bison poked through the chowder simmering on the stove—a new touch to an otherwise classic recipe. Tess scooped liberal portions into a bowl, paired with two, fresh slices of sourdough bread with slabs of butter melting on top. Half a dozen oatmeal cranberry cookies tucked in napkins filled the remaining space.

Stepping back, Tess examined her creation. _Yeah,_ she thought with a deep breath and nod, _this will do._

She balanced the plate in one hand and navigated doors with the other. Darkness flooded Howling Good Reads, save for the distant glow of a desk lamp in the back. Tess inched to the source, careful not to bump into bookshelves and tables. With one final corner, she peered into the propped open back office.

Simon hunched over the desk, squinting back and forth from the clunky monitor and the keyboard. Two fingers tapped at the keys, similar to the Crowgard pecking at their baked treats. He muttered to himself, rubbed his eyes, and resumed his work. Tess loomed in the doorway and held her breath; she never witnessed him _this_ absorbed in his work.

“Still tackling end of the month stuff?” Tess asked.

Despite her softness, Simon jolted upright and swiveled to face her. His shoulders slumped upon recognizing who bothered him. “What do you want? Store’s closed. You’re off shift.”

“And you’re still here.”

“I _own_ the place,” Simon mumbled, then sniffed the air. “What is that?”

Tess entered the office and slid the plate on the one, available patch of desk space. “You still require sustenance like everyone else, so if you’re going to insist on working until the witching hours, then don’t forget to eat.”

He leaned forward to further smell the contents. “Are you bribing me?”

Tess laughed. “Hardly. You were right about one thing—you hadn’t tasted any of my cooking or baking yet, so….” She shrugged. “Figured it made sense for you to come to your own decision then take my word on anything.”

Simon held her gaze, amber eyes searching for the gaps in her truths. Tess folded her arms and stood her ground. The endless lists on the monitor stole her attention briefly.

“I thought you didn’t like keeping track of sales and orders on this thing,” she mentioned, both teasing and questioning.

That agonizing sigh said enough. “Three vendors have done away with paper records. They insisted on everything to be processed on _this_ abomination.” Tess stifled a chuckle and Simon shot her a glare. “Why don’t _you_ try working on this _thing_ and we’ll see who’s laughing.”

“I mean, if you _want_ me to, I can. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it.”

Simon blinked. “Wait, are you serious?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you for I don’t know how long that it would be less of a headache if you transferred all your notebooks to a computer. All the places I worked at before did it that way, but I was also in a bigger city and not… you know, _here_.”

His eyes averted and brow wrinkled. “Can you sit down for a moment?”

Tess grabbed the only other chair in the room, pulled it up to the desk, and plopped down. Simon leaned back, cracked his shoulders, and drew in a breath.

“Hierarchy in a Wolfgard pack,” he said, “is as structured as the foundations of a building. Every member has their place. No more, no less. If there are too many weak members, chances are they won’t survive by the end of the year. Or they transfer to another pack, though odds of that are slim. We can’t support all of them; we’d wear ourselves thin and endanger everyone as a whole.

“And sometimes… sometimes there are more powerful individuals. You can’t put two roofs over one house—it’s one or the other. Same with the leaders. Multiple voices attempting to do what’s right by the pack makes for more confusion, if not outright chaos. They also are forced out to another pack, but….”

“If there isn’t another pack available?” Tess asked above a whisper.

“A fight usually determines who is the _true_ leader. Sometimes the loser can limp away, but other times….” Simon dragged a hand down his tired face. “When you started working at Howling Good Reads, I knew it wasn’t the place for you. Not because I didn’t think you were incapable of the job, but because you were clearly talented and meant for so much more.”

Tess cocked her head. “Then why didn’t you give me more responsibilities?”

“Because none of us knew what your deal was,” Simon attempted to say without snarling and failed. “Were you going to stay? Were you someone we could trust?”

“I’m not a Wolf, Simon.”

He laughed. “No, I know that. I’m not sure I _want_ to know what you are, but….” He locked gazes with Tess and she swore he smirked. “I know if you had your own pack, then you’d be the leader until your deathbed.”

Warmth pulsed through her body until she cracked a thankful smile. “My kind don’t roam in packs. I’ve been alone for most of my life that I wouldn’t know what to do if I had people around me that… were mine.” She chuckled and tucked loose, green curls behind her ear. “I was never trying to overthrow you.”

“I get that now, but it didn’t make it any easier for me to listen to someone’s advice when all she does is sweep the floors.”

“I do _way_ more than that and _you_ know it.”

“The point is… I was… scared, maybe. For many reasons.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“And I was simply trying to do what felt right.”

A comfortable silence swept by them. The computer whirred and groaned. Past the walls and windows, a cold wind rolled through the Courtyard with the promise of a new season around the corner. Tess expected to be gone by then and yet there she was, chatting with a Wolf, of all people, and hoping he would do more than trust her.

“Can I ask you something, Tess?”

Her spine lengthened. “What’s up?”

“Why _did_ you come here?”

She forgot to breathe. Her heart skipped a beat. Red emerged through her green locks. Dragging her tongue across her dry lips, Tess found the right words to bring life to.

“I never stay in one spot for long,” she said. “Better to keep the monkeys guessing about who and what I am. But one time, I got too comfortable. I thought that maybe it was okay to settle down, have something to call my own instead of living paycheck to paycheck.” Dead laughter lined her lips. “I was wrong. The humans might have never fully understood what I was, but they knew I was dangerous. And humans are weak and stupid, but there is something to be said about power in numbers. Even a Wolf knows when to run from a fight, hmm?” Simon nodded and Tess continued. “I didn’t want to run. I wanted to stay and defend what was _mine_ , but they forced me out. They destroyed everything I held dear to me. I took what I could shove in my pockets and fled. It didn’t matter where I went, just as long… as long as I was alive. That was the plan. Figured I’d save up enough here and then get out before anyone put two and two together.” She lowered her gaze. “Before the same shit started all over again.”

Simon didn’t respond. Not initially. “You should get some rest, Tess.”

She released a half-hearted chuckle directed at herself. “Yeah. Same to you. You know.” She waved a hand at the monitor. “Once you're done with the end of the month crap.”

He hummed and she rose from her seat. Before she reached the stairs leading to her apartment, she peeked back at the office. Simon repositioned himself at his keyboard, paused, and brought his attention to the food she originally delivered. He sniffed again. Clutching the spoon, he slurped on the chowder. Another pause and then he shoveled more into his mouth. His abrupt growl shot through Tess; had he noticed her watching?

Without question, she returned to her apartment and cleaned the kitchen. With the last of the cookware set on a towel to dry, a tap sounded from her window.

<I told him to take little bites,> Jenni said, ruffling her feathers. <He wasn’t happy about that.>

Tess laughed until tears streamed down her face and curls unraveled past her shoulders.

 

* * *

 

Tess harbored a love-hate relationship with mornings over time. Waking up was a chore, though there was something to be said about the quiet lulls before the world was alive. She cherished coffee marked with milk and sugar while losing herself in a book she intended to devour more so than breakfast. That morning, however, was anything but quiet.

Movement stirred through the floorboards. She grimaced and checked the time. Who the hell was making such a commotion an hour before her shift at Howling Good Reads?

<Simon? Vlad? What’s going on down there?>

Nothing. Tess groaned as her hair shifted to tight, red coils.

She abandoned her reading half an hour later. No point in trying when she was interrupted every five seconds with thumps and creaks. Changing out of her pajamas and freshening up for the day, Tess stomped out of the apartment.

_I swear,_ she thought, _if they opened early without telling me and there_ _’s a rush of customers, I’m going to make everyone’s brain turn to black soup—_

Tess emerged into the store and nearly tripped over her feet.

Countless bodies filled Howling Good Reads, either busy with transporting books in boxes or shifting bookshelves from one side of the store to the other. Crows perched on top of the moving displays, breaking into enthusiastic caws while their shifted kin worked together to lift and scurry. Several shifted Owlgard and Hawkgard aided in organizing the books on their new homes, feathers poking out from their hair.

Amidst the commotion, Tess spotted Simon speaking with Henry towards the front. She squeezed past the crowd and approached them. To her surprise, Simon smiled at her.

“Ah, there you are,” he said.

“What is going on?” Tess asked, just as confused as she was frustrated.

“I was talking to Henry about new shelving units. He’s going to make some with his woodworking tools. Maybe a new sign for the front, too.”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Henry tossed in.

“Wait a damn second.” Tess positioned herself between them. “Are you redesigning the store? And why is every Crowgard in here?!”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to go through with this cafe idea of yours. _They_ insisted on helping and if _I_ tell them it’s called off now, I’m going to get more than my eyes pecked out.”

Tess stared, blinking back the teary prickles behind her wide eyes. “You… you’re going to let me—”

“You’re staying, right? Unless you changed your mind.”

She parted her lips, only to snap them closed. A million questions screamed in her head, all of which she smothered. Did it matter _why_ anymore?

“Thank you, Simon,” Tess murmured.

“Well, don’t thank me _yet_ ,” he grumbled. “I’m counting on _you_ to make it work or else this whole thing is going belly up. So unless you want to stand around all day, I suggest you help clear some space. You’re going to need it.”

With a nod, she pivoted away. Her pulse raced in her ears, daring to explode.

“And Tess?”

Looking back at Simon, she didn’t expect that stern grimace glued to her.

“I want those… those—”

“The oatmeal cranberry cookies?” Henry offered.

“Shut up,” he growled. “That. I want _those_ cookies on the menu. _Daily_.”

Tess’ smirk widened into a grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

* * *

 

Spring brought a vivid array of blossoms within the Courtyard, but it wasn’t until Summer awoke when decadent aromas rivaled nature’s wonder. Before the sun crept past the horizon, lights flickered on from the depths of Howling Good Reads. Long gone were the mornings spent savoring good coffee and an even better book, but Tess didn’t want it any other way.

She contained her hair back in a bandana as she rushed about the kitchen. Bread rose, pastries baked, bacon sizzled, and soup boiled. Her hands worked in quick succession to knead, cut, and flip whatever she touched. No time to slow down and relax; there would be plenty of that once the morning rush trickled out.

With minutes left until the doors opened, Tess wiped down the display case and stuffed it with baked treats. She touched up the chalk menu with daily specials, pulled the bread from the oven, washed her hands, and approached the front to unlock the doors. A line amassed outside. Each face brightened when she beckoned for them to come in.

She fried up eggs to pair with cheese, meats, and sliced bread. She stuffed crepes with warmed fruits topped with powdered sugar. She jotted down special orders for pies and bread for the following week. She brewed coffee and teas to pair with each, flaky bite of chocolate croissants. Two Crowgard rushed in late to assist with delivering meals to the appropriate tables in exchange for a blueberry pie by the end of the day. Tess scanned the sitting area amidst each order; not a table was available, stuffed with patrons and their meals. Sometimes Tess caught sight of paper bags in customers’ arms while they stood in line—a black silkscreen of a howling wolf against a moon-shaped book adorned each one. And when they cleaned their plates and licked their fingers, those same people slipped out their purchased book, cracked it open, and read.

“You’re a hard woman to come by these days.”

Tess looked up from her end of the day cleaning and smiled. “I’ve been in the same spot running in circles all day.”

Nyx chuckled and leaned into the front counter. “Please tell me you’re not _too_ occupied for a night out on the town.”

“Tired, yes, but my night’s free.”

“Good. I’d hate for our time together to come to an end.”

Tess paused her work to face Nyx. “Hardly. Just need to strike the right balance between work and play. It’s only been the opening week, you know.”

That lovely face never ceased to smile. “It feels like you’ve been doing it for years.”

“Think so?”

“Know so. You’re suited for this, which is why I’m happy you’re happy.” She lifted a finger. “But I still insist you get out and have some fun.”

“Nothing beats a long week like toying with some human boys.”

They laughed together. Tess resumed her cleaning and Nyx watched in silence with an adoring gaze.

“You know,” Nyx said at one point, “I’m really… _really_ happy that you stayed.”

Slowing down, Tess reminded herself to breathe. “Really?”

“Yes. I’ve grown used to hunting with you, after all.”

Blush accompanied her smile. “Yeah, you and me both.” With the final tasks completed, Tess loosened the bandana from her hair. Straight brown hair tumbled down her shoulders. “Alright, let’s go.”

Nyx smirked and linked arms with Tess. “I heard there’s a new nightclub in Lakeside and those college kids are out on break.”

“Oh—” Tess squeezed her arm. “—then we _need_ to go there.”

“Though I’m giving you all the boys who drink those stupid, fruity drinks.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with something sweet.”

“No.” Nyx leaned in to whisper. “I just prefer to get my sweet fix from you.”

Tess chewed her lip as they exited the section of Howling Good Reads designated for eating. She paused at the switches along the wall. The overhead lights flickered out until only the cafe sign remained illuminated: A Little Bite.


	10. Chapter 10

It was like staring at a distant memory when she arrived. Tess poked her head out from the kitchen when Simon called for her. She didn’t expect him to loom over a small woman sitting in A Little Bite. Nor was she prepared for the reminders of her past to ghost over her skin.

Soup filled to the brim in a clean bowl, the best remedy for the winter weather. The woman cowered when Tess offered the meal, though ate regardless. Tess folded her arms and tented her brows—had she been this timid when she stumbled into the Courtyard years ago? Oh, she almost scoffed at the recollection. If anyone told her she would settle in a _terra indigene_ territory to operate a joint store between a Wolfgard and Sanguinati that served to both their kind _and_ humans, Tess would have died from laughter. She almost ran back then, just like she always did, but the Courtyard offered something that no other place every extended to Tess—a chance to call that small nook of the world her home.

Neither Tess nor Simon interrogated the strange woman with the reddish hair. They exchanged knowing glances; this was no ordinary monkey. And she was terrified and lost. Tess’ heart broke for her. Even more so when she eventually caught a glimpse of evenly spaced scars beneath her sleeves.

_Whoever you are,_ she kept to herself, _I won_ _’t let you feel alone in this cruel world. We might not be kin, but I know what it’s like to fight to survive. You don’t have to fight anymore._

“You’ve taken a liking to that newcomer,” Nyx mentioned one night before their movies.

Tess lolled her head to the side. “Is it strange to say I relate with her?”

“Not at all, though the red in her hair isn’t as impressive as yours.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of _how_ she came to the Courtyard.”

Nyx hummed. “There are similarities. I still remember when you showed up.”

“Do you?”

“I was worried you would turn into an icicle if you stayed outside any longer. You recovered quite well.”

“I like to think I did, but survival’s always been in my blood.” Tess frowned. “This Meg… she’s not a fighter.”

“She’s an excellent courier, I know that. Grandfather has yet to stop praising her.”

“I still can’t believe she pulled a stunt like that.”

“Nor can I, which makes her even more curious.” Nyx paused. <You know what Grandfather told me?>

The sudden switch to mental communication startled Tess, though she didn’t dare question Nyx’s logic. <What’s that?>

And when she spoke of Erebus’ nickname for Meg, both women narrowed their eyes onto one another.

“I will murder whoever _thinks_ of touching her,” Tess hissed.

Nyx flashed her fangs. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. You know of her kind, too?”

“Better than my own, at times.”

“Then we’ll make sure she stays safe.” Nyx chuckled. “And _do_ try to include me if someone _does_ need to die.”

“I can’t recommend you should watch.”

“No… but I can certainly listen to their screams.”

 

* * *

 

She _hated_ her.

Every time she waltzed into Howling Good Reads. Every time she ordered the same, damn treats. Every time she flashed that fake smile.

It was enough to make Tess reveal her true self to the world if it meant destroying the existence of that Asia Crane.

She met plenty of girls like that Asia. The two brain cells she rubbed together believed she was brilliant enough to fool the masses. But Tess was no stranger to masks. She caught the cracks in that Asia’s guise—the disgust in the interior decor, the disinterest in her sugar-coated words, and the disdain towards anything that didn’t involve herself front and center. Neither deception nor subtlety was in that Asia’s repertoire. The longer she lingered in the Courtyard, the longer Tess concocted torture plans between customer orders.

All Simon had to do was give Tess a nod. That was it. Enough to abandon the cookies in the oven and end that pathetic excuse for a monkey’s existence. Except Simon did anything but that and red streaked her hair for a new reason.

Though when that Asia crossed a line with Meg _and_ Simon, Tess dropped whatever polite veil she wore for the general public and reminded Simon _why_ he called her black hair the death color.

Whatever reasons he had for not eating that Asia on the spot eluded Tess. She was no Wolfgard, nor was he a Harvester, yet their heated argument dissolved with snark and idle threats.

“I heard you almost murdered Simon.”

Tess snorted. “Did the Crows tell you that?”

“They told Vlad,” Nyx corrected her as they strolled the streets of Lakeside, “who promptly told me.”

“Murder wasn’t my intent.”

“That’s a shame.”

“I _do_ wish I could have ended that Asia, though.”

She could almost hear Nyx roll her eyes. “It would be in everyone’s best interest if we made a public display of her and be done with it.”

“Girls like her make me sick.”

“Calling her a _girl_ is too kind.”

Tess eyed Nyx. The lamp posts and occasional, passing headlights illuminated that keen face before casting it to the shadows. That face surfaced in Tess’ thoughts throughout the day—a lovely pause amidst the chaos. She even scorched a batch of cookies due to such daydreams plaguing her. Tess blamed it on a faulty timer. Neither Julia nor Merri Lee questioned their boss.

_The more we_ _’re away,_ Tess mused, _the more I think of you. With me running A Little Bite and you playing diplomat for Grandfather Erebus_ _… how else am I to see you but in my dreams?_

Thus she bumped shoulders with Nyx. Clothing separated them, but she didn’t imagine that touch or the playful smirk Nyx gave in return. She was there, real as ever.

“And what,” Tess asked, “do _you_ think she deserves to be called?”

“She is nothing more than a wounded bunny crying in a forest and waiting to be killed.”

“Not eaten?”

“Oh no. Not worth the belly ache. The only joy that Asia will ever bring to anyone is her demise.”

 

* * *

 

She wished Nyx had been there. She wished many things had gone better that night—they all did. But when Henry’s voice entered her mind and gave her permission to destroy a particular bunny, Tess didn’t respond. Not verbally, not mentally.

A twisted grin carved across her cheeks. Every strand of hair swirled with giddy anticipation. Black framed the face she showed to none of the _terra indigene_ she called friends. This face was meant for no one but _that_ bunny who harmed Meg Corbyn.

Her only regret was not inviting Nyx to enjoy the show.

Oh, that bunny was simple to track. Definitely wounded, definitely crying. Maybe not with tears and snot, but the panic lingered in the air like salt from the ocean. Tess loomed in the shadows, snickered at that bunny’s attempt to flee, and moved in.

“Going to get out of here,” that bunny convinced herself. “Going to get warm.”

What a pathetic choice for last words.

“No. You’re not.”

One look was all it took. They locked eyes and Tess forced herself into that bunny’s paltry soul. Those two brain cells shrieked into the abyss Tess crafted. Nothing but black rain dripping from a void. Cold coated that bunny’s blood, enough to numb her insides from the rotting and peeling and boiling and disintegrating. Such a harmonious orchestration of chaos and dread. Tess cackled in that bunny’s mind, the echoes rippling like millions of spiders traversing her flesh.

_You,_ Tess moaned, _were worth the wait_. _I wanted to end your existence since you first arrived in the Courtyard, but I played along. I knew one day you would die horribly. Bunnies like you always do. My only wish was that_ I _would have the pleasure to do so myself._

She didn’t respond. She gazed at Tess as if every light in her life was a lie. They always did. And Tess licked her fingertips and snuffed out every last flame.

Except for one. A single, quivering spark persisted to instill a sliver of hope in those feeble brains. Let them think it was a nightmare to wake from. Any second now and it would be over. And they would watch that flame burn slowly until it ate the last of its wick and thrust them into eternal darkness. By then, they would be long dead and forgotten.

That was always Tess’ favorite part.

 

* * *

 

<I can’t believe you.>

<That I didn’t invite you?>

<No, that you went to your apartment and made _cookies_ for yourself.>

Tess snickered and shoved another chocolate chip morsel into her mouth. <Have to get the sour taste out of my mouth somehow.>

At least Nyx laughed. <I don’t think anyone could pay me to drink from her.>

<The Courtyard can consider what I did a gift. _You_ on the other hand….>

<What _about_ me?>

<How many of those monkeys did you get to torture? Without _me_?>

<Grandfather’s orders. Even if I had invited you, the party would have been over by the time you arrived.>

<You’re seriously underestimating how fast I can be.>

<From what you detailed to me, you seem to enjoy taking your time with said torture.>

<Oh… she was different.>

<From all your other prey? How so?>

<I let her know I actually put thought into devouring her soul.>

<Her oh-so sour soul.>

Tess almost choked on her cookie. <Trust me, you didn’t miss anything in the taste department.>

<Would have been fun to watch.> Nyx paused. <One day you’ll let me watch, won’t you?>

<Maybe.> She tapped a cookie against her lips. <I’d hate to harm you.>

<Oh please, what do you take me for? I’ll be a fly on a wall.>

<You know what I mean.>

A sigh filled Tess’ mind. <But that’s what I like about you.>

<Like… what about me?>

<You’re the most dangerous woman I’ve met. What’s not to like?>

<I mean… I _am_ sitting in my kitchen floor and about ten cookies deep into this plate of—>

< _Ten_?!>

<Of all the things I imagined you being miffed about, me eating cookies without you didn’t seem to be one.>

<I hope you’re wearing your silly monkey face right now.>

Tess grinned. <You love this silly monkey face.>

<Enough to make an emergency visit.>

<For what?>

Smoke squeezed through the window cracks and morphed into Nyx. She zipped to Tess, crossed her arms, and loomed with pursed lips.

“Unbelievable.”

Laughter burst forth from Tess. Nyx curled up next to her on the floor and swiped her share of cookies.

“Go on,” Nyx said with a full mouth, “keep laughing. See what I care.”

“I’ll have to keep in mind that chocolate chip cookies are as good as cinnamon buns when it comes to summoning you.”

“Hush you. This doesn’t change the fact I’m disappointed.”

“In what?”

“In you not telling me the details.”

A sly smirk tugged at Tess’ lips while she tilted her head. “I already told you three times how I murdered her.”

Nyx pouted and nuzzled into Tess’ shoulder. “Tell me again. I forgot.”

And Tess would have told Nyx a million times that night if it meant she would never leave her side.


	11. Chapter 11

Tess longed for the days when burnt cookies and over-steeped tea were the worst of her problems; those incidents were luxuries in hindsight. Then again, baking at all was a treat Tess reminded herself to actually enjoy. With A Little Bite came the reality of owning her own business—it wasn’t easy. Recipes she adored morphed into chores better left for another day or off the menu entirely. Her attention was required in more than the kitchen; more trouble brewed in Lakeside and Simon enlisted her help in more than one occasion.

Someone had to put those idiot monkeys in their place when they thought scaring the Sanguinati with a few jars was a brilliant plan. It also meant more time striking fear into those hollow hearts than whipping up a batch of blueberry muffins.

“You know what the best part of being the owner is?” Nyx mentioned one day while Tess closed up.

“Losing interest in the things that once made you content?” Tess grumbled, not a hint of amusement on her dry tongue.

“Making the rules,” she said. “Don’t do things because it’s what everyone else wants.”

“That’s kind of how stores operate, Nyx.”

“Human ones, perhaps, but who’s going to question you for narrowing down your bread selections to a couple types?”

Tess slumped into the front counter. “Even if I had the mental and physical energy to keep up with Courtyard politics _and_ A Little Bite, it’s not like I have the supplies to make whatever I want.”

Nyx contorted her face and leaned in to mirror Tess. “What does _that_ mean?”

“It means that my suppliers are neglecting my orders, plain and simple.”

“Do we need to go out on a special hunt?”

_If only that solved all of our problems._ “Not yet. I don’t know… maybe this is for the best. If baking is stressing me out, then I should take it down a notch.”

“Why not hire other bakers?”

Tess’ hair curled at the idea, though she rolled it in her head. “Or I could have other bakeries supply their goods to be sold here.”

“That’s… an odd way to go about it.”

“I get product, they get their name around _and_ stay out of my kitchen, and we both profit.” She shrugged. “Can’t hurt to try.”

After a pause, Nyx cupped her hand over Tess’. “I want you to be happy. That’s all. And I know baking makes you happy.”

“Not being stretched in ten different directions every hour would make me happy.”

“Trust me, I’m aware. I miss the days when the humans knew their place and we had nothing to worry about.”

“And when the most excitement we had in a day was gossip from the Crowgard.”

Nyx chuckled and squeezed Tess’ hand. “Don’t forget our late night excursions.”

How could she? It had been weeks, if not months, since they ventured out into the depths of the city for some fun or food—or both. Ever since Meg Corbyn slipped into the Courtyard, something shifted in the air, as if all eyes centered on her and those involved in her life. One day, the tension would settle and the air would be right again. Until then, Tess survived off of memories made with those she refused to let go. And the life source of exhausted police officers shuffling in for their morning coffee.

“If I ever forget,” Tess said, reciprocating that squeeze, “you can smack me.”

“I’d only smack you if you asked nicely,” Nyx teased.

“To be fair, you haven’t been an easy woman to find, either.”

“Guess we both need to work on that.”

“That we do.”

 

* * *

 

“Didn’t I tell you once that we need to get better about this?”

Tess dropped her gaze. “You shouldn’t be here.”

The smoke she glimpsed from the corner of her eye shifted into a velvet gown. “And let you have all the fun?” Nyx tsked. “I’m hurt.”

Had there not been thieves about to break into the building, Tess might have laughed. But black coated her fluid hair and she discarded her human guise long ago. One look in her eyes and it was over. Friend or foe, it didn’t matter to a Harvester. It did, however, matter to Tess.

“Nyx,” she hissed, “I’m not—”

“My eyes are shut, Tess. Don’t mistake me for those dumb monkeys.”

Lifting her head, Tess stared at the black-clad shoulder, almost dark enough to blend with the shadows. If there was anyone she longed to have by her side before facing against who knew how many human intruders, it was the fierce woman before her, but the idea of any of them inflicting an ounce of pain to that surreal beauty….

“I don’t wish for you to get hurt,” she whispered.

Nyx paused. “By them or by you?”

“Does it make a difference?”

“A little blood never scared me.”

“I wish blood was all that was involved when I rip apart their souls.”

“You don’t need to do this alone. I thought we agreed we’d plan this together.”

“This wasn’t exactly _planned_. This is an attack against the Courtyard.”

Nyx’s laugh staggered Tess like a physical blow to the face.

“You’ve changed,” she said once her amusement simmered down.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Nyx purred, shifting closer to Tess, “that I remember a certain plague rider not giving a shit about anyone here when she first strolled in. And now? Now you’ve put everyone else but yourself first.”

Her eyes flicked about, careful not to gaze at Nyx. “I guess… I’ve found something worth protecting.”

“Oh?”

“I….” Tess swallowed hard. “I have my own pack now. Sort of. I don’t need to survive anymore. I can do more. And right now? I’ll get hurt if it means keeping those I care about out of harm’s way.”

“Even me?”

Her pulse thrummed in her ears. “Especially you.”

Not a word left Nyx. Nails sunk into Tess’ shoulders. Her back slammed against the wall. She sucked in air and a hand clamped over her eyes. Before she strung coherent words together, before she registered the body crushing her own, before she roared in protest, plump lips closed over Tess’ and smothered every flicker of doubt.

A chill clawed her skin. Her hair wriggled no different from her hips. Fire swelled between her legs until the heat burned down to her toes. All the while, Nyx pinned her in place and greedily consumed her. Those lips worked magic no _terra indigene_ controlled, coaxing Tess to part her mouth for that curious tongue to stroke over her own. Wanton hands explored each other’s form in hopes to elicit more than a gentle coo. Fangs teased Tess’ lips and the decadent, smoky, intoxicating taste that was Nyx Sanguinati left her more insatiable than she believed to be possible.

The air shifted. Both reluctantly broke the torrent of kisses to listen. No sound vibrated in the walls, but that _feeling_ persisted.

“I think we have company,” Nyx murmured upon her lips. “We better go give them a warm welcome.”

Tess gulped down air and nodded, bumping noses with Nyx. “We should.” And when Nyx shifted away, Tess latched onto her hips and yanked her back in. “But promise me one thing.” The silence was enough to nudge Tess on. “Don’t let this… whatever _this_ is… be only for tonight.” The lack of a reply worried Tess. “Or do you always kiss your hunting friends?”

“ _Friends_?” Nyx buried her face in the nook of Tess’ neck to muffle her amusement. “Please don’t tell me the monkeys have been rubbing off on you.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

Nyx cupped her face with a free hand. “You think I invited you on that hunting venture _years_ ago just to be _friends_?” She snickered. “And here I am, thinking we’ve been courting for _ages_. Now I’m _truly_ hurt, Tess.”

Tess blinked beneath Nyx’s hand. “We… we’re—”

“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts now.”

“I didn’t think you… that we—”

“Well then.” She tapped a single finger against Tess’ quivering lips. “You prefer a more straightforward approach. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I can do straightforward.”

“Good.” Nyx kissed the corner of her lips. “Maybe now Grandfather will _finally_ believe me when I say I don’t desire a mate in the traditional sense and stop introducing me to strange men.”

“What if I introduced you to the strange men about to break into this place?”

Though deprived of her sight, Tess pictured Nyx grinning. “Now _that_ _’s_ a date. I’m glad you haven’t forgotten.”

“What’s that?”

Nyx released Tess. Smoke swirled around her before traveling down the hallway.

<That it’s always practical—but more importantly, _far_ more fun—to hunt in pairs.>

 

* * *

 

She wanted that moment to never end. She wanted to recline in Nyx’s lap while they basked in the afterglow of a well-deserved, overdue hunt. She wanted to stare at the stars and those dark eyes regarding her and nothing else. She wanted playful fingers combing her hair and insatiable lips covering her own. She desired all of it and more. So long as Nyx didn’t leave, then all was well.

How she wished to never wake from that dream.

The thieving monkeys were the last of their troubles. Even if Tess and Nyx figured out how to be in two places at once, the numbers weren’t in their favor. They couldn’t save Crystal. They couldn’t chase off the HFL fanatics. They couldn’t do a damn thing to remedy the troubles stirring in Thaisia.

And they certainly couldn’t predict that phone call from a voice that wasn’t meant for human words.

Tess braced herself against the front counter of A Little Bite, eyes glued to the display case. The menu listed scones, but the baked treat never touched an oven in well over a week. Crystal loved them, more than the hand pies. If only that was all it took to restore happiness within the Crowgard—enough little bites to eradicate the pain and grief. Maybe there would never _be_ scones again, if that was what the Elders desired. Yet another human creation better off destroyed than cherished.

A ragged breath dragged in her throat. In the past, she lost herself in her baking in hopes to drown out the stress gnawing her nerves. Now? Now Tess prayed to whatever would listen to allow those who _hadn_ _’t_ tarnished Thaisia to live to see the next day. If giving up A Little Bite was what it took to preserve the family she found in the Courtyard, then so be it.

_No one hurts anymore,_ Tess thought.

The bell from Howling Good Reads caught her attention. Gliding into the bookstore was none other than Nyx. She eyed the front display with mild curiosity before settling upon Tess. Even from a distance, Tess recognized that smirk and wink.

“She’s been frequenting the store more often.”

Tess raised a brow as Simon shuffled to A Little Bite’s counter. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“One Sanguinati is enough.”

“I think I can handle two.” _Definitely can get used to a certain one showing up more often around here, that_ _’s for sure._

Simon chuckled and Tess smiled. She fetched the bagged lunch saved for him and Meg along with tea and coffee. When he lingered, though, Tess folded her arms and waited for whatever he needed to spit out.

<You know,> he opted to tell her, <I think Stavros was eyeing her after that phone call.>

Tess clamped a hand over her mouth to contain her cackle.

<What?!> he growled.

<Oh, men can be oblivious no matter the race,> Tess mused.

<And that’s supposed to mean—>

<I’ll tell you when you’re older.>

They glared at one another until Simon wandered to the Liaison’s Office. All he needed was his tail between his legs to perfect the image. Tess dropped her hand, revealed her wide grin, and shook her head.

<What’s that human expression?> Nyx glided closer and tilted her head. <Penny for your thoughts?>

And when Tess told her, Nyx roared until tears dared to swell in her eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

Prairie Gold wasn’t an ideal tourist trap, let alone an area where Sanguinati flocked to. Orders were orders, though—Nyx made that much clear.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she assured Tess.

“I just don’t like the idea of you being somewhere I’m not.”

Nyx twisted her lips. “Don’t think I can hold my own ground?”

“Far from it, but with what the Elders told us—”

“I know. We need to take precautions and this is one of them.”

“I’m not sure I like you being a diplomat anymore.”

Nyx chuckled and so did Tess. “And I don’t like you working yourself to the bone, so consider the feeling mutual.”

A brief smile lit up Tess’ face. “When all of this is over… whenever that is… I hope we can make more time for each other.”

“Mmm… though I _will_ miss chasing down the idiot _boys_ in the city. The Elders might kill them all off.”

“Maybe not _all_ of them.”

“Maybe not.” She grinned. “Save a few toys for us to indulge in.”

“I love the way that twisted head of yours thinks.”

“The better to share with you.”

They stole fleeting kisses out of plain sight before Nyx retreated. Tess licked her lips and memorized the passion behind each shared moment. When the destruction and uncertainty settled, then they could melt into one another. No monkeys to fend off, no perils threatening the Courtyard—nothing but them and all the time in Thaisia.

Each day dragged without Nyx visiting Howling Good Reads and A Little Bite. The Crowgard brought daily word of Nyx’s well-being in Prairie Gold along with random shinies in hopes to lift Tess’ spirits. Even Vlad humored her with his presence during the lulls in the day. And Tess found herself less concerned with the lack of supplies and talks of limiting human customers and more caught up in the promise of Nyx’s return.

Whenever that was.

 

* * *

 

She wanted to laugh at the world’s sense of humor. Of course Nyx returned to her side when an inkling of a potential hunt blossomed. Smoke flowed past Tess and formed the woman who had yet to leave her thoughts.

“I was just thinking how I wished you were here,” Tess said, head down and eyes elsewhere. Her hood shielded enough of her true face, but the precautions stuck out of habit.

A familiar chuckle rolled behind her. “And _I_ was thinking about how we _need_ to work on our timing.”

“You ever feast on Namid’s teeth and claws before?”

“Have _you_?”

“No, but I’ve heard the stories.”

“And?”

“One’s enough to fill you for a whole year.”

Silence shifted between them. “Why is it that I picture you stuffing your face with more chocolate chip cookies if you catch a sour one?”

Tess smiled at the reminder, back when the bitter cold was the least of her worries. “I’d share.”

“The cookies or—”

“Both.”

Nyx sighed. “Besides, you’d be no fun to hunt with if you’re full for a damn year. I’m not waiting _that_ long to have a night out with you.”

“Well, here’s hoping the stars align or whatever those human stories say and we don’t have to wait much longer.”

Movement brushed behind her. Tess held her breath as lips grazed her neck.

“Don’t do anything stupid, unless you want me to drag you by your pretty hair.”

“Hmm… I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Noted.”

Nyx shifted away and Tess drew in a breath.

“And Nyx?” She paused, hoping the woman in question hadn’t drifted elsewhere. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“So am I,” she purred.

 

* * *

 

The worst was over. If a bruised leg instead of a bullet wound was her punishment for biting off more than she could chew, Tess considered it a good omen. At least the Wolf cookies were replaceable. Simon and the rest agreed to assess the damage in the morning, but for now? The fog lifted and the skies cleared. Warmth returned to Lakeside, though the chill from the odd, yet terrible silence lingered—the Elders had yet to vanish. Maybe now the monkeys would think twice about meddling in affairs that did not concern them.

Tess certainly planned to think twice before plotting to munch on an Elder’s life essence. At least Nyx was there to voice reason and keep spirits high.

Retreating to her apartment, Tess stripped from her sodden clothing and limped to the bathroom. Steam clouded the area as she stood beneath the running water. Not enough to wash the tangy grime from the Elders, but it soothed Tess’ muscles and thoughts. She inhaled moist air and moaned. Eventually, she would wash up, dry off, and collapsed into bed until she was better. For now, Tess indulged in nothing but standing still with not a worry marking her thoughts.

She never even noticed the smoke filtering in past the cracks of the closed door.

<Enjoying yourself?>

Tess flinched and whipped around, only to relax when abstract shadows danced past the shower curtain. <I thought you were busy tidying the office?>

<I was and now I’m done. I thought _you_ were staying off your leg.>

<I wanted to clean up.>

<Do you need a hand?>

Her soaked hair curled at the ends. Tess bit her lower lip. <Maybe.>

<Maybe?>

<Though I’d be lying if I said being clean was on my mind right now.>

Nyx’s silhouette formed outside the shower. She unlaced her favorite gown, the garment pooling to her ankles. Careful fingers curved around the shower curtain to tug it aside. Nyx wore nothing but a smirk as she joined the shower. Tess never blinked.

They enveloped one another in both their arms and kisses. Warm water flowed past them. Tess dragged nails along the soft, enticing skin she couldn’t pry herself away from. Whimpers and pleas mixed between them. Every second shared left them yearning for more, daring to suffocate if it meant one more taste, one more caress; they drowned themselves in a raw passion they denied for years.

A hand tangled in Tess’ brown ringlets. She yelped and grinned at Nyx’s swift yank to further expose her neck. Nyx lapped the sensitive skin until Tess trembled and clung tighter. Their legs intertwined, thighs rubbing in between to further fuel their already overwhelming arousals.

<Do you know how much I’ve thought about this?> Nyx asked, tugging erect nipples with her teeth.

Tess arched her back and oozed with moans. <Hopefully as much as I have.>

<I wanted to drag you further into that alley when I first took you out and show you the influence you had on me.>

<Over a little hunt?>

<Seeing what you did to those boys?> Nyx sucked on both nipples before elaborating. <I don’t think anything else has ever turned me on that much.>

Tess cupped her face, skimming a thumb over her lips. <Is that why you always want to hunt with me?>

Nyx smirked. <One of many reasons. You have a cute butt, too.>

Laughter shot through the bathroom. <Is that why you’re always lingering behind?>

<Don’t lie.> Nyx caught her thumb in her mouth and sucked hard. <You love the attention.>

<From you? How could I not?> That tongue swirling around her digit left Tess squirming and whimpering. <Why don’t you show me what else your tongue is capable of?>

Nyx smiled, knelt before Tess, nuzzled between her thighs, and lavished her with persistent strokes. Even her good leg faltered. Tess braced herself against the shower wall, clutching the back of Nyx’s head and begging for her not to stop. Each flick of her tongue against her clit sent pleasant pricks across her skin. It flooded Tess with a sensation she once forgot. Now she no longer required her imagination for a lusty treat; she had Nyx to help out.

And damn all of the Courtyard if they heard each erotic cry from Tess’ apartment. At least they knew better than to pry into her business.

Nyx never strayed an inch, licking her swollen clit and clutching her trembling thighs. Tess closed her eyes as her hair slithered in and out of curls. She teetered along an edge she wished to plummet from.

<Please don’t stop,> she whimpered.

A smug snicker shot through Tess’ thoughts and that tongue gained speed. Several more strokes and Tess quaked and screamed her name. Ecstasy pulsed through her body, better than any life essence she ever tasted. All the while, Nyx lapped away until Tess crumbled and joined her on the shower floor.

She caught Tess in a tender embrace and kissed her temple. <Better?>

Tess rolled her heavy head to catch Nyx’s gaze. <More than you can imagine.>

<Mmm, good. I could get used to this.>

<I’m not complaining.>

<Though I think you might be my new favorite treat.>

<Better than chocolate chip cookies?>

< _Far_ better.>

 

* * *

 

Sunlight warmed the apartment’s interior, highlighting an assortment of rustic, yet eclectic art, furniture, and fabrics in a warm glow. A gentle breeze filtered through the cracked window and danced with gossamer curtains. It tickled Tess’ bare shoulder until she stirred. Stretching in bed, she rolled over and smiled. Nyx slept with her face half buried in a pillow beside her. So peaceful, unlike the previous day’s events. Tess longed to tuck silky, black hair out of her face, though feared the most fleeting of touches would shatter the illusion.

She inched closer, her eyes on Nyx and her mind elsewhere. Tess grinned until her cheeks burned. They survived both monkeys and Elders alike. Nothing else could tear them apart. All that remained was to enjoy the moment. She secretly wished said moment lasted for eternity.

Another breeze flowed in to play with Nyx’s hair. She whimpered and nuzzled further into the pillow. Tess chuckled, perching her face up with a loose fist.

“Not a morning person?” she murmured. Nyx muttered something incomprehensible. “Well, luckily for you, we don’t need to get out of bed any time soon.”

Lifting her head enough to peer past her hair, Nyx huffed. “Good.”

“You’re precious when you’re tired.”

“Hush you.”

A lazy arm draped across Tess’ waist. Nyx tucked herself into Tess and resumed resting. Tess smiled, stroked her hair, and kissed her forehead.

“All I want,” Nyx said into her skin, “is to not leave this bed.”

“We’ll grow hungry eventually.”

The exaggerated sigh was enough proof of Nyx’s sentiments. “I think I’ll take my chances with hunger.”

“You’re a bit of a grump when you’re hungry.”

“What’s that human saying about the pot calling a kettle black?”

“Then bed it is.” Tess hugged her close. “I think we’ve deserved it.”

“Mmm, that we have.”

They smiled softly at one another before closing their eyes. Intermittent breezes cleared the stagnant air, golden rays warmed the apartment, and Nyx never loosened her hold on Tess. She couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Except for a certain Wolf booming in her head.

<Tess? Tess?!>

Inches away from delving into a slumber, Tess jerked back to consciousness. Nyx winced and fluttered her eyes.

<Tess, where are you?!>

<I’m in my apartment, Simon. What’s wrong?>

Nyx raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright?”

<Do you know what time it is?> Simon asked.

Tess blinked. “It’s Simon.” Nyx rolled her eyes. <Um… daytime?>

<It’s been over two hours since we’ve opened and only Nadine is in there!>

<Well, I’m glad she survived the—>

<Tess! Why aren’t you down here?!>

<Why are _you_ down there? Why are _any_ of the shops opened today? After what happened yesterday, I figured we’d all need a day off.>

<No one told _me_ that, let alone Nadine.>

“Tell him to go piss on a mailbox and leave you alone,” Nyx grumbled.

She snickered, thankful Simon’s ears weren’t _that_ good. <She _is_ the type who needs to keep busy, Simon.>

<What does _that_ mean?>

<It means let her do what she wants in A Little Bite—>

<A human? Alone? In—>

<If Namid’s teeth and claws didn’t hang her intestines up like lawn decorations, then she must fine enough on her own, Simon. What do you want me to do? Slap her wrist and tell her we’re closed?>

If only his pause meant the conversation was over. <But… are you closed?>

Tess flopped on her back with a groan. <I don’t know! Sure!>

Nyx combed a hand through red hair to massage Tess’ scalp.

<Next time you decide to show up unannounced,> Simon grumbled, <you ask me first.>

<It’s _my_ shop.>

<And _I_ _’m_ the leader of this—>

< _Simon_.>

Tess snapped her sights to Nyx and froze. Thank goodness Namid didn’t bless her to be a Harvester, for those dark eyes contained nothing but death.

The silence was anything but comforting and Simon dared to break it. < _Nyx_? What are you—>

<In case you’ve forgotten,> Nyx raised her voice in both their minds, <Tess was injured the other day while protecting this Courtyard. I’m no bodywalker, but I doubt wobbling around a kitchen all day isn’t in her best interest. If I were you, I’d leave her be so she can rest her wounded leg and _you_ focus on more important matters, like the case of the missing Wolf cookies.>

Simon sighed. <Henry did mention something about that.>

<Good. Now _shoo_.>

Another pause. <Wait, where _are_ you? Are you with—>

<Did I _stutter_?>

No response. It was for the best.

“Well that’s a relief,” Tess sighed out. “Though I have to say… my leg is doing a lot better since—”

“I know that.” Nyx shook her head. “Honestly, you’re going to save me no choice but to tie you up if it means keeping you in bed.”

Her hair rolled into messy waves. “That sounds more like a treat than punishment.”

A wicked grin lined Nyx’s lips. She pushed herself to seated, bedsheets falling from her form to reveal smooth, perky breasts. Repositioning herself over Tess, she snatched her wrists and pinned them above her head.

“What can I say?” Nyx cooed, brushing her lips along Tess’. “I like to have fun.”


	13. Chapter 13

Nothing returned to normal. Why would it? If human bigots and wild, ancient _terra indigene_ weren’t enough, then the raging dumpster fire that rolled into the Courtyard went above and beyond expectations. Tess longed for the days when she stressed over fulfilling customer orders and arguing with couriers for late supply deliveries. What a distant dream those days were; instead, the new source of her headache originated from Monty’s siblings arriving unannounced.

The last time her hair insisted on staying red for an extended period of time was when she stumbled into the Courtyard in the middle of a blizzard. No amount of baking relaxed her tight curls. She swore Nadine sprouted several grey hairs from witnessing the drama explode in the middle of A Little Bite.

The Sierra reminded her of the stories Simon used to tell her of the weaker pack members. Either shoved into another pack to accommodate them or left for dead. No alternatives. Human traditions, however, dictated otherwise. Something about family needing to stick together no matter what. Tess nearly vomited at the concept; if Harvesters clung together in a similar fashion, not a doubt crossed Tess’ mind that she would have murdered every last one of them to ensure her solitude.

She couldn’t pick the family which brought her into Thaisia, but she chose the individuals she valued the same way one was expected to with a human family. It was in the Wolfgard, the Crowgard, the Sanguinati, and all the _terra indigene_ she swore to protect if another damn thing blew up—literally or figuratively—in the Lakeside Courtyard.

And yet the Sierra still yielded to toxic influence under the guise of _family_. Tess scoffed. How did _none_ of that infuriate the Sierra? Why didn’t she stand tall and strike those weaker than herself? How else was she to learn to survive and grow? Maybe humans reacted differently. Maybe they preferred to grovel for comfort and happiness than grasp it for their own. Tess tolerated her at best and resented her at worst; with her lack of work ethic and overflowing entitlement, Tess cursed the Elders for not gobbling the Sierra up before she reached Lakeside and thus putting her out of her misery.

For every nerve the Sierra plucked within Tess, however, it paled before the blood-curdling rage reserved for that Cyrus.

_I didn_ _’t start this place to have some pathetic excuse for a monkey’s shit stain to bark orders at me or anyone,_ Tess managed to keep to herself. If only she was able to rot his inside until he vomited black tar. The mere idea sent a twitch between her legs.

But she didn’t. Furthermore, she _couldn_ _’t_. Or anyone in the Courtyard, for that matter. Because the odd, yet terrible silence never left. The Elders watched and learned, curious as to why the _terra indigene_ of Lakeside desired to gut a strange human no different from the slaughter that rolled through Thaisia weeks ago. Surely _one_ human wasn’t capable of colossal trouble.

Had it been herself and not Simon they spoke with, Tess would have dared to consume both of those Elder souls until the rest of their kin understood the message.

“This will only end in death,” Tess told Simon one morning.

He glared at her. “You think _I_ don’t understand that?” He sighed. “Would have been better if the Elders cleaned humanity from existence.”

“Tell me about it… but we both know that wouldn’t be ideal. For any of us.” When Simon opted for silence, Tess pushed on. “No more humans means no more of their creations. I’d have no means to bake with and you’d have no books to sell.”

“Maybe it would be better that way.”

“Simpler, yes, but is it really better? All the decent humans we’ve met, befriended, and _protected_ over the years… is it worth throwing them away to never deal with the rest of their idiot kin?” She smirked. “Besides, even if you asked nicely, I don’t think the Elders would go through with it.”

“Why?”

“Who would give them all those Wolf cookies if not the humans?”

A chuckle rumbled through Simon. Tess considered it a victory.

 

* * *

 

Every day was but another charade to act out. Be nice, smile, and don’t kill anyone. That much was understood amongst the _terra indigene_ , though none of them controlled the humans and their actions. Tess kept a longer vigil over Nadine each time she wielded another knife. If the Elders’ warning didn’t ring in her head, Tess held no objections to setting Nadine loose to gut that Cyrus. The fantasy alone made the long, hot hours more bearable.

That and Nyx’s daily visits to Howling Good Reads.

<Is he still alive?> Tess asked her.

She caught Nyx rolling her eyes from the archway. <Sadly.>

<What a shame. I was hoping he choked on his tongue last night.>

<Or the food he swiped from the Sierra.>

<Maybe we should poison the food.>

<I don’t believe we have any proper, local means to accomplish that.>

Tess snorted. <Are you kidding me? Undercooked chicken alone is enough to trouble a human’s stomach.>

<That’s tempting, but also boring.>

<What did you have in mind?>

<I was discussing with Jenni about all of the Crowgard eating him alive.>

Tess almost choked with laughter. Nadine shot her a bizarre look before returning to her pie dough.

<Can you picture the Crows chanting about little bites while pecking out his eyes and stomach and intestines?>

<Have them save the rest so you can bake a meat pie with him and feed it to his pups and mate.>

<Wow, you are twisted and I love it.>

Nyx hid her knowing smirk behind a bookshelf, eyes still locked on Tess. <Aren’t bones used for something with recipes?>

<A good stock, perhaps. Simon would love any soup with that.>

<I’d love it if you turned him to soup right now, all on your own.>

A chill prickled her skin. <Do you know how often I _dream_ of rotting his soul?>

<Enough to lose count?>

Tess hummed. <Destroying him would be better than that bunny who troubled us last winter.>

<I almost forgot her. Still disappointed I couldn’t join you… but I would kill to watch you end that Cyrus.>

The subtle purr in Nyx’s words brought a skip to Tess’ heart. <Would you, now?>

<Mmhmm. I’d be careful, of course. Watch from behind while you rendered him useless with a simple look. Though I can’t promise I’ll behave after he’s dead.>

< _Behave_?>

<I might pounce you shortly after if you don’t pounce me first.>

Tess fidgeted with a pen along the countertop. She licked her lips and suppressed the need to moan. <It would be hard to keep my eyes off of you, though.>

<Have you no sense of imagination?> Nyx tsked. <Blindfold me. Bind my hands to keep from pawing at it if you have to.>

The mental image alone left Tess smirking and blushing. <Is that what you want?>

<To experience you in the rawest way possible? Always.>

<It’s a shame we can’t kill that Cyrus.>

<A shame, indeed. It’s a good thing we don’t need some Elder’s permission for every toy we play with.> After a pause, Nyx added, <Though if circumstances change, you better put a damn bow on that Cyrus’ neck for me.>

Tess wasn’t sure what amused her more: Nyx’s request or Nadine’s bewilderment over Tess’ abrupt cackle.

 

* * *

 

The day it happened, Tess wasn’t there. Nor did she have to be—not when she felt it. Her body shuddered until she collapsed to her knees in her apartment. With the Sierra gone— _finally_ —no other explanation stood for the seething nausea except for that Cyrus and his abhorrent actions. Such misery hadn’t lived in Tess since she fled her former abode. She swore to never experience it again and Simon promised her a home and family to call her own.

But now? It was almost enough to drive her away and be done with Lakeside altogether.

Smoke poured in from her open window and whipped into human form. Tess stared at the floor, not out of worry of draining Nyx of her life force, but out of fear of the presence Nyx emitted. For all Tess knew, a seasoned Harvester loomed over her.

“That Sandee,” Nyx said, a wicked mixture of calm and sadistic, “harmed Leetha.”

The other Sanguinati was but an acquaintance to Tess, if that. But a Sanguinati was a Sanguinati and no matter what Nyx’s opinions were of the woman, a human attacked not one, but _all_ Sanguinati.

Tess dared to eye Nyx and swore she gazed into a void. White knuckles trembled along Nyx’s side while blood oozed through the cracks in her fists.

“Shall we give her a head start?” Tess offered, her usual strength absent. “Makes the chase more fun before we—”

“ _No_.”

The hideous chuckle rumbling in Nyx stirred fresh fear within Tess. Only for a second, though, before sheer, anxious delight flooded her.

“The Sanguinati will _never_ forget that Sandee,” Nyx said, wrinkles forming in her tense features. “Let them handle her. _I_ want the ones who _armed_ her.”

 

* * *

 

“Then again, you weren’t really _absent_ … were you?”

Tess folded her arms and leaned into the front counter of Howling Good Reads. Vlad arched a single brow in her direction. No sign of Simon, though if what the Crows said was true—which was always—then it was better to leave him be. Maybe she should have been there for him to track down Meg after her abduction, but she was no Wolf. Besides, she was needed elsewhere.

“You miss me?” she teased him.

“That’s one way to say it.”

“I would have invited you, but Nyx insisted it was a date.”

Vlad’s eyes widened and jaw dropped. “A _what_?”

“Is that not what humans call it?” When he opted to gawk, she rolled her eyes. “Pick one of the dozens of human books in here and I’m sure some idiot can explain it better than me.”

“I… didn’t realize you… you and Nyx were—” He cleared his throat and stood taller. “Well then. I’m sure Grandfather has a few choice words about that.”

“I didn’t know you Sanguinati had to ask his permission with who you wanted to fuck.”

Ah, that expression. If only Nyx was there to witness it, too.

“Anyhow,” Tess drew out, averting her gaze, “how’s Leetha? Any better?”

“Depends on your definition of better. She’ll heal, but there may or may not be permanent scarring around her mouth in human form.”

_That could have been you, Vlad. Or Nyx. Or a Wolf or Crow or anyone who wished to end that Sandee_ _’s life._ A breath passed through Tess. _All the more reason to feel good about what we did to_ them.

“The… newspaper.”

Tess gazed out a window. “What about it? Are you still selling them here?”

“The front page headlined a story about the men behind those drugged lotions that Sandee wore. I believe they drank bleach in a gamble of sorts.”

“Is that all it said?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

Tess bit the corners of her mouth as she recalled the memory, careful not to share _too_ much with Vlad.

 

* * *

 

Every city possessed an underbelly, no matter how elitist or ignorant the civilians pretended to be. Those who aimed to evade human _and_ earth native law found a home in those dark, decrepit streets. Potholes disrupted the sidewalks, stray trash scattered like tumbleweeds, and the summer’s humidity intensified the pungent odor everywhere. Even Tess avoided those particular nooks over the years when hunting solo; monkeys in numbers were nothing to laugh at.

But she wasn’t alone.

Nyx donned her usual, black velvet fabrics, the cut more suitable for the sweltering heat with its scoop neckline and knee-length hemline. Quite reminiscent of their beloved, movie femme fatale seeking revenge, or so Tess imagined. Several humans perched from their windows to watch Nyx in particular as they strolled the streets. Almost like Crows. _Good_ , Tess thought, _then they can spread the word once they realize what happens when you cross with a Sanguinati._

<This is the place,> Nyx said, slowing her steps as they rounded a corner.

Tess heard them before she saw them. Half a block down were two men inclined to borderline yell at one another to communicate, despite standing a foot apart. Typical _boys_. It was as if they desired attention, especially the bad kind.

<You ready for this?> Tess asked.

<When am I not?>

Both ladies exchanged sly glances, smirked, and sauntered up to the humans.

One of the men stopped mid-sentence to stare at the women approaching them. His friend released a sharp whistle of demeaning approval. Tess withheld the desire to laugh.

“Well _hello_ there, ladies!” the whistler began, a wide grin overwhelming his face. “Fancy meeting you two here!”

“You lost or something?” the starer asked. “Fine looking specimens such as yourselves don’t grace us with your presence.”

<Specimens.> Nyx groaned. <That’s a new one.>

<They’re immature monkeys. What did you expect?>

<Hmm… it’ll make it more amusing when they’re murdered.> Nyx came to a standstill and folded her hands together. “I believe we’re exactly where we need to be. Isn’t that right, Tess?”

Joining her partner-in-crime, Tess perched a hand on her hip and glared back at the humans. “Let’s see… a bunch of obnoxious monkeys up to no good in the armpit of Lakeside? Yeah, this sounds about right.”

The whistler dared to approach Tess. “The fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me.” Her hair shifted to green with strands of red. “Or would you prefer the ass crack of Lakeside?”

Nyx smiled enough to expose her fangs. “Careful. You might damage their delicate pride.”

“Dude, these are some Others freaks,” the starer said. No panic in his tone. Not yet.

“Well, that’s a fucking shame.” The whistler spat at their feet. “Bitches like you don’t have a right to roam around here.”

“Really?” Nyx tilted her head, eyes glowing with intrigue. “Just as _you_ don’t have a right to concoct and sell drugs of any variety, never mind the kind that targets Sanguinati.”

The anger faded to give way to amusement. “Oho! Hold up! You’re here because of that dumb vampire bitch who attacked Sandee?” The whistler cackled. “Maybe you blood suckers should think twice before treating every human like we’re a walking juice pack.”

Nyx blinked. <A… what?>

<Beats me.>

<Sounds disgusting.>

<Yup.>

<Murder him last.>

<Ten steps ahead of you, Nyx.>

“So let me guess.” The whistler rubbed his grubby hands together, unable to resist grinning. “You two are here to try and spook us so we drop our shit or something, right? Well tough luck, _ladies_. Our beef was with Sandee.”

“And you attacked a Sanguinati by doing so,” Nyx said.

“Pfff, I didn’t do shit to you or your vamp bitch friend. Maybe Sandee needs to stop acting dumb and not get herself mixed up in trouble.”

Tess raised an eyebrow. “And yet she’s associated with _you_ somehow.”

“Fuck off! What proof do you even have that it was _us_ who were even involved?”

“Oh.” Nyx stepped forward and fashioned her glare like daggers. “We have our ways.”

“If you’re so certain you _weren_ _’t_ involved,” Tess said, “then why get defensive?” She shrugged. “We just want to know what you gave to Sandee. That’s all.”

“A big ol’ cup of none of your fucking business.”

<He’s sweating.> Nyx chuckled. <Poor baby.>

<It’s a wonder the human authorities have overlooked these idiots for this long.>

<Better for us to toy with.>

“Why don’t we play a little game,” Tess said, each word slow, yet clear. “You show us what you gave that Sandee and we leave you alone.”

Both men broke out into laughter after a pause. Nyx and Tess exchanged looks.

“We don’t have to do shit for you!” the whistler said. “Why don’t you run back to your cushy Courtyard and get over whatever fucking problem you have with us.”

“Or,” Nyx added, “we slit both your throats right here and dangle you from the street lamps by your intestines so everyone—human _and_ earth native—know not to meddle with the Sanguinati.”

That shut them up. Palpable fear radiated from the monkeys. Tess allowed a smirk to flash across her face.

After muttering between themselves, both monkeys jerked their heads to an ajar door and stormed inside. Tess entered first with Nyx close behind.

The interior made the streets a paradise—wallpaper peeled, water damaged the ceilings, and a miasma claimed forgotten corners of the building. Tess’ hair coiled, mostly red with flecks of green. She followed the monkeys while keeping her distance; no need to risk another leg for injury.

At the end of the hallway was a locked door, which opened after a series of distinct knocks. Another man—scrawny enough to be confused with a twig—greeted his friends from the other side, though his warm welcome dropped upon spotting the ladies behind them.

“Who the fuck are they?” the twig asked.

Tess held her tongue. So did Nyx. His friends explained, albeit with some colorful remarks. The three monkeys reluctantly beckoned Nyx and Tess to follow, locking the door behind them.

<Bold of them to think that will keep them safe,> Nyx said.

<Let them have their false securities,> Tess reminded her. <All a part of the game.>

They chuckled in each other’s minds while approaching the uneven, kitchen table in the apartment flat. Mounds of dirty dishes, unpaid bills, and hand-labeled bottles occupied the surface. The whistler plopped down in a chair at the table, flanked by the starer and the twig, then gestured to the chairs opposite him.

“Go on, ladies.” He flashed a disarming smile. “Make yourselves at home.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Tess said, easing into the chair.

As for Nyx, she stood behind Tess, no doubt mimicking the whistler’s expression. “I’m good.”

“Tch, whatever, bitch.” His eyes returned to Tess. “So… you want to play a game? Alright, we can play along.” All three of them snickered. Tess managed not to roll her eyes. “We got a fun one to play with you… or more like with your _friend_ here.”

He snapped his fingers. The twig searched through the cabinets to reveal a small, plastic tub. Tess recalled similar containers in the shopping bags Merri Lee lugged with her before heading home. Popping the top off, the twig dipped his fingers in and slathered the lotion onto his bare arm.

“You hungry, vamp?” He circled around the table. “You want to take a bite just to shut me up?” More snickers rolled through the room while he extended the lotion-smeared arm to Nyx. “All yours, baby. Come on. What’s stopping you? I’ll even toss in two hundred bucks for all the blood you can suck. Or are you _afraid_ of something biting you back?”

“Wonder if those Others have any chicken shifters,” the starer tossed in, “because that’s what they’re acting like! A bunch of chicken shits!”

<They’re bad at this,> Nyx droned out.

<You expected more from them?>

<No… just bored.>

<Let me fix that for you.>

“I got another idea.”

The twig glared at Tess. “What’s wrong? Don’t want your friend to have a snack?”

“That seems to be an awful waste of your product, whatever it is. So how about this.” She tucked her wriggling hair behind her ears. “You want to play chicken? We can do that. You and me. Staring contest. Whoever blinks first loses. If you win, we leave and never come back. And if we win… well, my friend here gets to bite your _other_ arm.”

The laughter flooded the room was almost music to her ears. Almost.

“That’s it?” The twig shook his head. “Wow, you freaks are dumber than you look. Bitch, you’re _fucked_. I can go without blinking for like, five minutes.”

_Even better._

They made eye contact and it was already over. He never moved, never screamed. Only when his legs gave out and blackened brains leaked from his ears did the panic erupt.

Both men rattled off their own versions of the truth. Not that it mattered anymore. Nyx gleaned what information she needed from Burke during that Sandee’s visit to the police station. The rest was simply icing on the cake, as the humans liked to phrase it. And the dread coating the life essence tasted even better.

Black hair swirled about a nonhuman face. Tess directed her sights on the starer, who tried to flee for the door. One look was all that was necessary. Nothing echoed in his empty head except for rain. His lifeless body limped to the floor with a profound thud as his pureed innards gushed from his once screaming lips.

As promised, Tess saved the best for last.

The whistler fell from his chair and scrambled away until his back hit the sink cabinet. He wept, begged, and pissed himself like a bratty human pup. Frantic eyes darted everywhere. Tess held her gaze, waiting for their eyes to meet. She didn’t expect him to turn his back to her, just as she didn’t expect him to paw for an entire bottle of bleach from under the sink to chug like liquid courage. He coughed on the contents, spewing forth blood and vomit, yet it did little to deter him from drinking more. When the bottle fell from his clutches, he curled up into himself and shrieked.

Tess sighed and pushed back in her chair to stand, but a firm hand on her shoulder told her otherwise.

<Let him suffer,> Nyx moaned.

<What if others come to inspect the noise?>

<Oh, we’ll drown him out. Besides, he’s perfect background music.>

Nyx dipped in to lick her neck. Tess closed her eyes and leaned back.

<Enjoy the show?> she asked.

<Mmm, more than you can imagine,> Nyx purred back. <I’m excited to see what the encore entails.>

Tess grinned. <Then close your eyes and be a good girl for me.>

Once on her feet, Tess procured a bandana from the back pocket of her khakis. Obedient as ever, Nyx stood with her eyes shut. The thought of accidentally harvesting her life sickened Tess, though indulging Nyx with one, simple request? Even Tess was aroused by the anticipation.

She secured the bandana over Nyx and tugged her close for a hard kiss. Black hair flicked across Nyx’s cheeks. Their hips met and rolled with fervor. With one hand latched on her waist, Tess swept her free arm across the table to rid it of its contents. Plates and bottles shattered and dampened the horrific yelps in the corner. Tess whipped Nyx onto the table, the wooden legs groaning beneath her weight. As for Nyx, she wiggled about, licked her lips, and moaned.

Tess loomed over her and sealed those parted lips with her own. Content coos vibrated through both of them. Greedy hands raced up and down Tess’ spine, clawing through the thin material of her tank top. She teased stiff nipples hidden beneath black velvet until Nyx arched her back and begged for more. A thigh squeezed between Tess’ legs and coaxed her to rub against the surface to her liking.

She bunched up the velvet dress to Nyx’s waist and moaned upon darting her hand over smooth skin. <Something tells me you’ve been turned on before we even arrived here.>

<Like I said,> Nyx purred, <you have a cute butt.> She smacked it for emphasis, the sharp pain eliciting a gasp from Tess.

<Not as cute as this.> Tess slicked her fingers against Nyx’s arousal before circling her clit. They broke their kiss in favor of breathless moans. <You sound gorgeous.>

Nyx squirmed beneath Tess and chewed on her own lower lip until the skin broke. <Just shut up and keep going.>

Tess cackled and obeyed. Her mouth skimmed Nyx’s exposed clavicle, peppering kisses along the way. Her life essence thrummed with a heat Tess rarely experienced with her prey. It spurred her to stroke faster in hopes to discover what other sounds Nyx was capable of. Each motion was another hiccup in Nyx’s soul, all of it burning like a wild Elemental dancing through a dead forest.

And when she trembled against Tess and cried with nothing but pure bliss, Tess grinned into her neck and memorized every pulse, every quiver, every mewl. Warm breaths pummeled Tess’ face as she nuzzled into Nyx.

<You know how to put on quite the show,> she said.

<Mmm… I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand after that.>

<Want me to carry you back to the Courtyard?>

<I want _you_ to enjoy yourself, too.> Nyx bent her leg further into Tess. <Besides, that monkey is still weeping over there. Might as well make the most of his music.>

Licking her lips, Tess aligned herself to rock her hips against Nyx’s thigh. Even with her pants blocking direct contact, the dull friction swelled into something fierce. Tess braced herself against the table and Nyx’s shoulder. Wooden legs wobbled with each licentious rock. Nyx brushed fingertips along Tess’ side and teased the curves of her breasts.

<I’ll never tire of listening to you,> Nyx whispered in her thoughts.

Tess closed her eyes and focused on her own desires. She wished for nothing more than to join Nyx in that warm, gooey bliss. It fueled her to quicken her rhythm. Whimpers and gasps melted together before giving way to a pleased cry. She never slowed down until her muscles begged for relief. She twitched and moaned, collapsing on top of Nyx. The table gave out seconds after.

Green and red strands swirled around Tess’ face. She jerked upright and cupped Nyx’s cheeks. “Shit, are you okay?!”

A cackle ricocheted off the walls. Nyx tugged at the bandana until their eyes locked. She held Tess’ face, as well. A whisper caught between them before they kissed, “I’ve never felt better.”

 

* * *

 

“How long until he died?”

Tess quirked her lips about. “Not sure. We didn’t stick around to find out.” _Or really pay attention when we_ were _there._

Vlad nodded slowly. “Is it safe to assume you and Nyx will go after that Sandee next?”

“She’s already turned herself in to be locked up in a human prison.” Tess shrugged. “I don’t care, so long as she never steps foot into Lakeside again. Nyx might feel differently, though.”

“That’s an acceptable solution for now.” He scrunched his face up. “That leaves one question, though.”

“What?”

“You and Nyx.”

“What _about_ us?”

“Are you two… _mates_? How does that even work?”

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too much about it, Vlad.”

Tess smirked at that lovely voice while Vlad paled. The lady in question herself strolled up to join the conversation. Nyx kissed Tess’ temple, perched folded hands upon her shoulder, and grinned. Vlad looked back and forth between the two ladies.

“Unless,” Nyx said, breaking the awkward silence, “you’d like to come to _watch_ us. To better understand. There’s _a lot_ more to mating than mindlessly thrusting your—”

“Are you listening to yourself?!” Vlad slammed his palms on the counter and leaned in. “What would Grandfather say?”

Nyx cocked her head. “Grandfather already said it was about damn time I found someone who lived up to my high expectations. And he’s invited Tess over for our Watersday movie night.”

“Does he want me to bring over anything special?” Tess eyed Nyx. “Popcorn? A pie? Anything?”

“He _did_ mention something about cinnamon buns. He’s curious as to why I’ve developed a taste for them.”

“I think I can manage that.”

Vlad smacked his face. “Unbelievable. After all these years he’s spent introducing you to potential mates—”

“All of who I _never_ asked for,” Nyx fired back.

“What about Stavros?”

“What _about_ him?”

“Have you not noticed his advances? He’ll be heartbroken.”

“Oh boo _hoo_. Why don’t _you_ court him, Vlad, and make him feel better? It’s not like _I_ _’m_ the only one who’s been mate-less for years. You’re just as eligible as I am.” Nyx snickered. “Or _was_.”

Tess laughed until her side ached. _And here I thought vampires couldn_ _’t blush._

“What’s so funny?”

All eyes centered on Simon as he strolled in. Quizzical, amber eyes regarded the three of them.

“Vlad is confused about the inner workings of a woman’s mind,” Nyx explained. “Nothing unusual.”

Simon squinted. Tess buried her face in Nyx’s neck to muffle her chuckle.

“Vlad, we have books on the subject,” Simon said, a hint of humor coating his dry words.

“Don’t side with them!”

“Never said I was.”

Vlad flailed a hand at the ladies. “Did _you_ know about this?”

“About what?”

“They’re _mates_ now!”

Simon blinked. He looked over Nyx and Tess before returning to Vlad. “No.”

“Then _why_ are you _grinning_?!”

“Oh. Blair asked me a month ago. I didn’t know or care, but there was bison involved in our wager, so—” He clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Looks like someone owes me a bison now.”

While Vlad and Simon bickered, Tess tugged at Nyx and led her towards A Little Bite. “Come on,” she whispered, “let’s leave them to figure out this mystery.”

“He’ll get over himself,” Nyx murmured with a grin. “For all I know, Vlad’s jealous we can’t be single together anymore.”

“Maybe Stavros will heal his broken heart.”

They giggled, one arm wrapped around the other’s waist.

“Should I leave you to your work?” Nyx asked.

Tess sighed. “I have strange people in my coffee shop.”

“Oh?”

“One of them called me _ma_ _’am_ earlier.”

Nyx cackled. “I think that means they’re afraid of you.”

“Good.”

“Then if that’s the case, I might stick around for the show.” She tucked gentle fingers beneath Tess’ chin and brought her face parallel to her own. “You’re always fun to watch.”

Brown waves swished, soft lips crushed into her own, and Tess never stopped smiling.


End file.
